Love poems
/ page 920 of 1285 /Matthew Arnold On Hearing Him Read His Poems In Boston
© Katharine Lee Bates
A stranger, schooled to gentle arts,
He stept before the curious throng;
Waratah and Wattle
© Henry Lawson
Australia! Australia! so fair to behold-
While the blue sky is arching above;
The stranger should never have need to be told,
That the Wattle-bloom means that her heart is of gold.
And the Waratah's red with her love.
All Winged Creatures I Have Loved
© Victor Marie Hugo
All the winged creatures I have loved!
And when, a child, I 'neath the thicket roved,
I from their nests the little birds conveyed
At first, of reeds I cages for them made,
The Four Bridges
© Jean Ingelow
I love this gray old church, the low, long nave,
The ivied chancel and the slender spire;
No less its shadow on each heaving grave,
With growing osier bound, or living brier;
I love those yew-tree trunks, where stand arrayed
So many deep-cut names of youth and maid.
May-Day
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
The world rolls round,--mistrust it not,--
Befalls again what once befell;
All things return, both sphere and mote,
And I shall hear my bluebird's note,
And dream the dream of Auburn dell.
Uncle Harry
© Henry Lawson
Oh, never let on to your own true love
That ever you drank a drop;
That ever you played in a two-up school
Or slept in a sly-grog shop;
To Holmes: On His Seventy-Fifth Birthday
© James Russell Lowell
Dear Wendell, why need count the years
Since first your genius made me thrill,
If what moved then to smiles or tears,
Or both contending, move me still?
A Song of Brave Men
© Henry Lawson
Man, is the Sea your master? Sea, and is man your slave?
This is the song of brave men who never know they are brave:
Ceaselessly watching to save you, stranger from foreign lands,
Soundly asleep in your state room, full sail for the Goodwin Sands!
Life is a dream, they tell us, but life seems very real,
When the lifeboat puts out from Ramsgate, and the buggers put out from Deal!
The Fire At Ross's Farm
© Henry Lawson
The squatter saw his pastures wide
Decrease, as one by one
The farmers moving to the west
Selected on his run;
The Old Stoic
© Emily Jane Brontë
Riches I hold in light esteem,
And love I laugh to scorn;
And lust of fame was but a dream
That vanish'd with the morn:
Lines For A Grave-Stone
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
Man alive, that mournst thy lot,
Desiring what thou hast not got,
Money, beauty, love, what not;
On The Night Train
© Henry Lawson
Have you seen the bush by moonlight, from the train, go running by?
Blackened log and stump and sapling, ghostly trees all dead and dry;
Here a patch of glassy water; there a glimpse of mystic sky?
Have you heard the still voice calling yet so warm, and yet so cold:
"I'm the Mother-Bush that bore you! Come to me when you are old"?
To Manon, On His Fortune In Loving Her
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
I DID not choose thee, dearest. It was Love
That made the choice, not I. Mine eyes were blind
A Report Song In A Dream, Between A Shepherd And His Nymph
© Nicholas Breton
Shall we go dance the hay? _The hay?_
Never pipe could ever play
Better shepherd's roundelay.
To Hannah
© Henry Lawson
Spirit girl to whom 'twas given
To revisit scenes of pain,
From the hell I thought was Heaven
You have lifted me again;
The Willow
© James Whitcomb Riley
Who shall sing a simple ditty about the Willow,
Dainty-fine and delicate as any bending spray
That dandles high the dainty bird that flutters there to trill a
Tremulously tender song of greeting to the May.
Book1 Prologue
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
But all who are not fishes are soon tired of water;
And they who lack daily bread find the day very long;
So the "Raw" comprehend not the state of the "Ripe;" 3
Therefore it behoves me to shorten my discourse.