Love poems
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Till Death -- is narrow Loving --
© Emily Dickinson
Till Death -- is narrow Loving --
The scantest Heart extant
Will hold you till your privilege
Of Finiteness -- be spent --
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet I
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Care killed a cat, and I have cares at home,
Which vex me nightly and disturb my bed.
The things I love have all grown wearisome;
The things that loved me are estranged or dead.
Almighty Spirit, Now Behold
© James Montgomery
Almighty Spirit, now behold
A world by sin destroyed:
Creating Spirit, as of old,
Move on the formless void,
Move on the formless void.
One Evening
© Guillaume Apollinaire
An eagle descends from this sky white with archangels
And you sustain me
Let them tremble a long while all these lamps
Pray pray for me
To Youth
© Walter Savage Landor
WHERE art thou gone, light-ankled Youth?
With wing at either shoulder,
And smile that never left thy mouth
Until the Hours grew colder:
Sonnet 16: In Nature Apt
© Sir Philip Sidney
In nature apt to like when I did see
Beauties, which were of many carats fine,
My boiling sprites did thither soon incline,
And, Love, I thought that I was full of thee:
Trial by Jury
© William Schwenck Gilbert
SCENE - A Court of Justice, Barristers, Attorney, and Jurymen
discovered.
The Dream: (For my Father)
© Katharine Tynan
Over and over again I dream a dream,
I am coming home to you in the starlit gloam;
Long was the day from you and sweet 'twill seem
The day is over and I am coming home.
The Moon, Offended
© Charles Baudelaire
Oh moon our fathers worshipped, their love discreet,
from the blue countrys heights where the bright seraglio,
the stars in their sweet dress, go treading after you,
my ancient Cynthia, lamp of my retreat,
Thick-Headed Thoughts: Part 3
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
'Tis a wicked world we live in;
Wrong in reason, wrong in rhyme;
But no matter: we'll not give in
While we still can come to time.
The Night-Wind
© Emily Jane Brontë
In summer's mellow midnight,
A cloudless moon shone through
Our open parlour window,
And rose-trees wet with dew.
The Joy Of A Dog
© Edgar Albert Guest
Ma says no, it's too much care
An' it will scatter germs an' hair,
When Lide Married _Him_
© James Whitcomb Riley
When Lide married _him_--w'y, she had to jes dee-fy
The whole poppilation!--But she never bat' an eye!
Pixley Folks
© Edgar Albert Guest
SOMETIMES I git to thinkin' o' the days o' youth, an then
There comes a-troopin' through my mind th wimmin folk an' men
Sonnet 119: "What potions have I drunk of Siren tears,..."
© William Shakespeare
What potions have I drunk of Siren tears,
Distilled from limbecks foul as hell within,
