Love poems
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Queensland Opal
© William Henry Ogilvie
Opal, little opal, with the red fire glancing,
Set my blood a-spinning, set my pulse a-stir,
Strike the harp of memory, set my dull heart dancing
Southward to the Sunny Land and the love of Her!
Thou hast flashed on my sight,
© Alaric Alexander Watts
Thou hast flashed on my sight,
Like a spirit of love,
The New Amadis.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
IN my boyhood's days so drearI was kept confined;
There I sat for many a year,All alone I pined,
As within the womb.Yet thou drov'st away my gloom,Golden phantasy!
I became a hero true,Like the Prince Pipi,
Ballad Of The Banished And Returning Count.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[Goethe began to write an opera called Lowenstuhl,
founded upon the old tradition which forms the subject of this Ballad,
but he never carried out his design.]
The Beauteous Flower.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Were I not prison'd here.
My sorrow sore oppresses me,
For when I was at liberty,
Such, Such Is He Who Pleaseth Me.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
In the wood where thou thy flight didst wing.
Fly, dearest, fly! He is not nigh!
Never rests the foot of evil spy.
A Southern Girl
© Madison Julius Cawein
Serious but smiling, stately and serene,
And dreamier than a flower;
A girl in whom all sympathies convene
As perfumes in a bower;
Through whom one feels what soul and heart may mean,
And their resistless power.
To A Golden Heart That He Wore Round His Neck.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[Addressed, during the Swiss tour already mentioned,
to a present Lily had given him, during the time of their happy
connection, which was then about to be terminated for ever.]
First Loss.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Of that time so fondly cherish'd!
Silently my wounds I feed,
And with wailing evermore
Christel.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
My senses ofttimes are oppress'd,Oft stagnant is my blood;
But when by Christel's sight I'm blest,I feel my strength renew'd.
I see her here, I see her there,And really cannot tell
The manner how, the when, the where,The why I love her well.If with the merest glance I viewHer black and roguish eyes,
Love As A Landscape Painter.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
ON a rocky peak once sat I early,
Gazing on the mist with eyes unmoving;
Stretch'd out like a pall of greyish texture,
All things round, and all above it cover'd.
The Spagnoletto. Act IV
© Emma Lazarus
Night. RIBERA'S bedroom. RIBERA discovered in his dressing-gown,
seated reading beside a table, with a light upon it. Enter from
an open door at the back of the stage, MARIA. She stands
irresolute for a moment on the threshold behind her father,
watching him, passes her hand rapidly over her brow and eyes,
and then knocks.
The Spring Oracle.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
OH prophetic bird so bright,
Blossom-songster, cuckoo bight!
In the fairest time of year,
Dearest bird, oh! deign to hear
Death-lament Of The Noble Wife Of Asan Aga.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Scarcely had the Cadi read this letter,
Than he gather'd all his Suatians round him,
And then tow'rd the bride his course directed,
And the veil she ask'd for, took he with him.
Ode to Marbles by Max Mendelsohn: American Life in Poetry #163 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2
© Ted Kooser
I have always enjoyed poems that celebrate the small pleasures of life. Here Max Mendelsohn, age 12, of Weston, Massachusetts, tells us of the joy he finds in playing with marbles.
Ode to Marbles
Blindman's Buff.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Can through the bandage see!
Although thine eyes are bound,
By thee I'm quickly found,
Love Song--Heine
© Eugene Field
Many a beauteous flower doth spring
From the tears that flood my eyes,
And the nightingale doth sing
In the burthen of my sighs.
With A Painted Ribbon.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
LITTLE leaves and flow'rets too,Scatter we with gentle hand,
Kind young spring-gods to the view,Sporting on an airy band.Zephyr, bear it on the wing,Twine it round my loved one's dress;
To her glass then let her spring,Full of eager joyousness.Roses round her let her see,She herself a youthful rose.
Grant, dear life, one look to me!'Twill repay me all my woes,What this bosom feels, feel thou.Freely offer me thy hand;
