Love poems

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North Beach

© Francis Bret Harte

(AFTER SPENSER)

Lo! where the castle of bold Pfeiffer throws

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Not Yet

© Katharine Lee Bates

NOT yet hath Nature, lovely colorist,

Bestirred her from creative dream to fling

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My Friend

© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

MY Friend wears a cheerful smile of his own,
And a musical tongue has he;
We sit and look in each other's face,
And are very good company.

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This is love

© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi

This is love: to fly toward a secret sky,

to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment.

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Giovanni Malatesta At Rimini

© Arthur Symons

Giovanni Malatesta, the lame old man,

Walking one night, as he was used, being old,

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Ghazal 01

© Shams al-Din Hafiz


O beautiful wine-bearer, bring forth the cup and put it to my lips

Path of love seemed easy at first, what came was many hardships.

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An Epistle To A Friend

© Samuel Rogers

When, with a Reaumur's skill, thy curious mind
Has class'd the insect-tribes of human-kind,
Each with its busy hum, or gilded wing,
Its subtle, web-work, or its venom'd sting;

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Robbie's Statue

© Henry Lawson

Grown tired of mourning for my sins—

  And brooding over merits—

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A Friend's Song for Simoisius

© Louise Imogen Guiney

The breath of dew, and twilight's grace,
Be on the lonely battle-place;
And to so young, so kind a face,
The long, protecting grasses cling!
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)

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The Maid-Martyr

© Jean Ingelow

Her face, O! it was wonderful to me,
There was not in it what I look'd for-no,
I never saw a maid go to her death,
How should I dream that face and the dumb soul?

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The Death Of Adonis

© Sappho

This is the lamentation-song

For Adonis — woe for Adonis, woe!

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Hongree and Mahry

© William Schwenck Gilbert

The sun was setting in its wonted west,
When HONGREE, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores,
Met MAHRY DAUBIGNY, the Village Rose,
Under the Wizard's Oak - old trysting-place
Of those who loved in rosy Aquitaine.

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The Secret Pool

© Roderic Quinn

I KNOW a pool unknown to men,
Whose green and shadowed secrecy
I share alone with bird and tree,
And there, when I am sick at heart

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To --------

© Anne Brontë

And if thy life as transient proved,
It hath been full as bright,
For thou wert hopeful and beloved;
Thy spirit knew no blight.

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Sonnet XI: And Therefore If to Love

© Elizabeth Barrett Browning

And therefore if to love can be desert,

I am not all unworthy. Cheeks as pale

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Love: An Elegy

© Mark Akenside

At last the visionary scenes decay,
My eyes, exulting, bless the new-born day,
Whose faithful beams detect the dangerous road
In which my heedless feet securely trod,
And strip the phantoms of their lying charms
That lur'd my soul from Wisdom's peaceful arms.

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Good-Bye--God Bless You!

© Eugene Field

I like the Anglo-Saxon speech

 With its direct revealings;

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Memory Of April

© William Carlos Williams

You say love is this, love is that:
Poplar tassels, willow tendrils
the wind and the rain comb,
tinkle and drip, tinkle and drip-
branches drifting apart. Hagh!
Love has not even visited this country.

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Blue and Buff

© George Canning

Come, sportive Muse, with plume satiric,
Describe each lawless, bold empiric,
Who, with the Blue and Buffs' sad crew,
Now stripp'd in buff, shall look so blue.

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The Lay of the Last Minstrel: Canto III.

© Sir Walter Scott

I.

And said I that my limbs were old,