Love poems
/ page 835 of 1285 /The Fan : A Poem. Book III.
© John Gay
Learn hence, ye wives; bid vain suspicion cease,
Lose not in sulien discontent your peace.
For when fierce love to jealousy ferments,
A thousand doubts and fears the soul invents,
No more the days in pleasing converse flow,
And nights no more their soft endearments know.
The Ballad Of Lucy Jordan
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
At the age of 37
She knew she'd found forever,
As she rolled along through Paris
With the warm wind in her hair.
Julia, or the Convent of St. Claire
© Amelia Opie
Stranger, that massy, mouldering pile,
Whose ivied ruins load the ground,
Reechoed once to pious strains
By holy sisters breathed around.
The Song of Elf
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Blue-eyed was Elf the minstrel,
With womanish hair and ring,
Yet heavy was his hand on sword,
Though light upon the string.
Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part III.
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
The great farm house of Malcolm Graem stood
Square shoulder'd and peak roof'd upon a hill,
Near The Forum Of Trajan
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
In Rome, as I look from my lattice
And lean to the night,
Maidenhood
© Edith Nesbit
THROUGH her fair world of blossoms fresh and bright,
Veiled with her maiden innocence, she goes;
The Rites Of Darkness
© Kenneth Patchen
The sleds of the children
Move down the right slope.
To the left, hazed in the tumbling air,
A thousand lights smudge
Within the branches of the old forest,
Like colored moons in a well of milk.
The Factories
© Margaret Widdemer
I have shut my little sister in from life and light
(For a rose, for a ribbon, for a wreath across my hair),
Being Dad On Christmas Eve
© Edgar Albert Guest
They've hung their stockings up with care,
And I am in my old arm chair,
Givers
© Margaret Widdemer
MY lover kissed my lips, and his arms went round my body,
But you were kissing the lips of my soul in our own wild garden
Where the rose-colored moon shone down
Through a sevenfold garland of rainbow stars
And a river of clear golden music rippled and thrilled
In our own place.
Amelia Jane
© David McKee Wright
In the lands away beyond the sea, where Khan and Sultan rule,
Where they drink their coffee thick and black, and sip the sherbet cool,
They have white Circassian girls for slaves, as well as the Negro black;
And it seems to me in our free land that slavery's coming back:
It's fenced about with custom and law, and they give it a prettier name.
But, spite of the paltry wage that's paid, it's slavery all the same.
Children Of Love
© Harold Monro
The holy boy
Went from his mother out in the cool of the day
Over the sun-parched fields
And in among the olives shining green and shining grey.
"There Is Dew For The Flow'ret"
© Thomas Hood
There is dew for the flow'ret
And honey for the bee,
And bowers for the wild bird,
And love for you and me.
Natalias Resurrection: Sonnet XIX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
And still the music sounded near and near,
Loud and more loud on Adrian's nuptial way,
Preluding soft, as 'twere a dulcimer,
But gathering strength and volume with delay,
Drunken Morning
© Arthur Rimbaud
Oh, my Beautiful! Oh, my Good!
Hideous fanfare where
yet I do not stumble!
Oh, rack of enchantments!