Love poems
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Sonnet XXXIV: The Dark Glass
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Not I myself know all my love for thee:
How should I reach so far, who cannot weigh
Old-Testament Gospel
© John Newton
Israel in ancient days,
Not only had a view
Of Sinai in a blaze,
But learned the gospel too:
The types and figures were a glass
In which they saw the Saviour's face.
Fidele's Grassy Tomb
© Sir Henry Newbolt
The Squire sat propped in a pillowed chair,
His eyes were alive and clear of care,
But well he knew that the hour was come
To bid good-bye to his ancient home.
To-- Yet look on me
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Yet look on me -- take not thine eyes away,
Which feed upon the love within mine own,
Which is indeed but the reflected ray
Of thine own beauty from my spirit thrown.
For Thee
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
What woes are there
I would not choose to bear
For thy dear sake?
Curses were blest, the ache
It's Not Going To Happen Again
© Rupert Brooke
I have known the most dear that is granted us here,
More supreme than the gods know above,
If I Had Known You
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
If I had known you--oh, if I had known you!
In other days when youth and love were strong,
I would have raised a temple to enthrone you
On some fair pinnacle of cloudless song.
Written in Milton's PARADISE LOST.
© Mather Byles
Had I, O had I all the tuneful Arts
Of lofty Verse; did ev'ry Muse inspire
The Shepherd's Week : Friday; or, The Dirge
© John Gay
Grubbinol.
Ah Bumkinet! since thou from hence wert gone,
From these sad plains all merriment is flown;
Should I reveal my grief 'twould spoil thy cheer,
And make thine eye o'erflow with many a tear.
Panthea
© Oscar Wilde
. NAY, let us walk from fire unto fire,
From passionate pain to deadlier delight,-
I am too young to live without desire,
Too young art thou to waste this summer night
Asking those idle questions which of old
Man sought of seer and oracle, and no reply was told.
The Old Manor House
© Ada Cambridge
An old house, crumbling half away, all barnacled and lichen-grown,
Of saddest, mellowest, softest grey,-with a grand history of its own-
Grand with the work and strife and tears of more than half a thousand years.
Elegy Written At Hotwells, Bristol
© William Lisle Bowles
The morning wakes in shadowy mantle gray,
The darksome woods their glimmering skirts unfold,
Prone from the cliff the falcon wheels her way,
And long and loud the bell's slow chime is tolled.
Old Age. (Sonnet IV.)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The course of my long life hath reached at last,
In fragile bark o'er a tempestuous sea,
Edith
© William Ellery Channing
EDITH, the silent stars are coldly gleaming,
The night wind moans, the leafless trees are still.
Edith, there is a life beyond this seeming,
So sleeps the ice-clad lake beneath thy hill.
Serenade
© William Makepeace Thackeray
Now the toils of day are over,
And the sun hath sunk to rest,
Seeking, like a fiery lover,
The bosom of the blushing west
A Model For The Laureate
© William Butler Yeats
ON thrones from China to Peru
All sorts of kings have sat
The Violet-Gatherer (From The Danish Of Oehlenslaeger)
© George Borrow
Pale the moon her light was shedding
Oer the landscape far and wide;
Calmly bright, all ills undreading,
Emma wanderd by my side.
