Love poems
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Chaap Tilak
© Amir Khusro
Chhap tilak sab cheeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Chhap tilak sab cheeni ray mosay naina milaikay
The Murdered Traveller
© William Cullen Bryant
When spring, to woods and wastes around,
Brought bloom and joy again,
The murdered traveller's bones were found,
Far down a narrow glen.
Song (Untitled#1)
© George Meredith
Love within the lover's breast
Burns like Hesper in the west,
O'er the ashes of the sun,
Till the day and night are done;
Then when dawn drives up her car -
Lo! it is the morning star.
Another Chance
© Henry Van Dyke
A DRAMATIC LYRIC
Come, give me back my life again, you heavy-handed Death!
Through Pleasant Paths
© James Lionel Michael
Through pleasant paths, through dainty ways,
Love leads my feet;
Bristowe Tragedie: Or The Dethe Of Syr Charles Badwin
© Thomas Chatterton
THE featherd songster chaunticleer
Han wounde hys bugle horne,
I Would Like To Describe
© Zbigniew Herbert
I would like to describe the simplest emotion
joy or sadness
but not as others do
reaching for shafts of rain or sun
The Master
© George Essex Evans
In sea and air, in leaf and stone,
Whereer Truths magic words are writ,
Stray Birds 31 - 40
© Rabindranath Tagore
31
THE trees come up to my window
like the yearning voice of the dumb earth.
32
Vitamins And Roughage
© Kenneth Rexroth
Strong ankled, sun burned, almost naked,
The daughters of California
The Scarlet Cloak
© Roderic Quinn
ONE may go a-many leagues a-questing yon and hither;
One may look on queens and kings, and think the vision bliss;
But he who has the wholesome heart, as lightsome as a feather,
Can find a joy in everything, no matter what it is.
2nd Chorus Mexico City Blues
© Jack Kerouac
Man in the Middle
Is not Worried
He knows his Karma
Is not buried
Of English Verse
© Edmund Waller
Poets may boast, as safely vain,
Their works shall with the world remain;
Both, bound together, live or die,
The verses and the prophecy.
To Chloe Jealous
© Matthew Prior
Dear Chloe, how blubber'd is that pretty face;
Thy cheek all on fire, and thy hair all uncurl'd:
Prythee quit this caprice; and (as old Falstaff says)
Let us e'en talk a little like folks of this world.
