Love poems
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When First We Faced, And Touching Showed
© Philip Larkin
When first we faced, and touching showed
How well we knew the early moves,
Behind the moonlight and the frost,
The excitement and the gratitude,
There stood how much our meeting owed
To other meetings, other loves.
Ambulances
© Philip Larkin
Closed like confessionals, they thread
Loud noons of cities, giving back
None of the glances they absorb.
Light glossy grey, arms on a plaque,
They come to rest at any kerb:
All streets in time are visited.
The Song Of Honour
© Ralph Hodgson
I heard no more of bird or bell,
The mastiff in a slumber fell,
I stared into the sky,
As wondering men have always done
Since beauty and the stars were one,
Though none so hard as I.
The Fellowship Of Books
© Edgar Albert Guest
I care not who the man may be,
Nor how his tasks may fret him,
Nor where he fares, nor how his cares
And troubles may beset him,
If books have won the love of him,
Winter - The Fourth Pastoral, or Daphne
© Alexander Pope
Lycidas.
Thyrsis, the music of that murm'ring spring,
The School In August
© Philip Larkin
The cloakroom pegs are empty now,
And locked the classroom door,
The hollow desks are lined with dust,
And slow across the floor
A sunbeam creeps between the chairs
Till the sun shines no more.
Venetian Morning
© Rainer Maria Rilke
Windows pampered like princes always see
what on occasion deigns to trouble us:
the city that, time and again, where a shimmer
of sky strikes a feeling of floodtide,
If, After I Die
© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa
If, after I die, they should want to write my biography,
There's nothing simpler.
I've just two dates - of my birth, and of my death.
In between the one thing and the other all the days are
mine.
Adelgitha
© Thomas Campbell
For he is dead and in a foreign land
Whose arm should now have set me free;
And I must wear the willow garland
For him that's dead, or false to me."
Song.
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Written for the dinner given to Charles DICKENS
by the young men of Boston, February 1, 1842
An Arundel Tomb
© Philip Larkin
Side by side, their faces blurred,
The earl and countess lie in stone,
Their proper habits vaguely shown
As jointed armour, stiffened pleat,
And that faint hint of the absurd -
The little dogs under their feet.
Sad Steps
© Philip Larkin
Groping back to bed after a piss
I part the thick curtains, and am startled by
The rapid clouds, the moon's cleanliness.
Love Again
© Philip Larkin
Love again: wanking at ten past three
(Surely he's taken her home by now?),
The bedroom hot as a bakery,
The drink gone dead, without showing how
To meet tomorrow, and afterwards,
And the usual pain, like dysentery.
A Love Song
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Ah, love, my love is like a cry in the night,
A long, loud cry to the empty sky,
The cry of a man alone in the desert,
With hands uplifted, with parching lips,
Verses IV
© Charlotte Turner Smith
On the Death of the same Lady, written in Sept. 1794.
LIKE a poor ghost the night I seek;
Its hollow winds repeat my sighs;
The cold dews mingle on my cheek
Truth in advertising
© Yahia Lababidi
morning epiphany
applicable to love and life
in haiku-like purity:
The Empty Nest
© William Watson
I saunter all about the pleasant place
You made thrice pleasant, O my friends, to me;
The Loom Of Dreams
© Arthur Symons
I broider the world upon a loom,
I broider with dreams my tapestry;
Here in a little lonely room
I am master of earth and sea,
And the planets come to me.
An Old-Year Song
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
As through the forest, disarrayed
By chill November, late I strayed,
