Love poems
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In The Dark
© Mary Thacher Higginson
THE fields were silent, and the woodland drear,
The moon had set, and clouds hid all the stars;
And blindly, when a footfall met my ear,
I reached across the bars.
The Star-Apple Kingdom
© Derek Walcott
There were still shards of an ancient pastoral
in those shires of the island where the cattle drank
their pools of shadow from an older sky,
surviving from when the landscape copied such objects as
Dark August
© Derek Walcott
So much rain, so much life like the swollen sky
of this black August. My sister, the sun,
broods in her yellow room and won't come out.
Blues
© Derek Walcott
You know they wouldn't kill
you. Just playing rough,
like young Americans will.
Still it taught me somthing
about love. If it's so tough,
forget it.
Nine O'Clock
© Robert Graves
Good-night to the meadow, farewell to the nine o'clock Sun,
"He loves me not, loves me, he loves me not" (O jealous one!)
"He loves me, he loves me not, loves me"--O soft nights of June,
A bird sang for love on the cherry-bough: up swam the Moon.
A City's Death By Fire
© Derek Walcott
After that hot gospeller has levelled all but the churched sky,
I wrote the tale by tallow of a city's death by fire;
Under a candle's eye, that smoked in tears, I
Wanted to tell, in more than wax, of faiths that were snapped like wire.
Rose D'Amour
© Mathilde Blind
Oh haste while roses bloom below,
Oh haste while pale and bright above
The sun and moon alternate glow,
To pluck the rose of love.
Bankside: (Home Of Edmund Quincy Dedham)
© James Russell Lowell
I
I christened you in happier days, before
A Far Cry From Africa
© Derek Walcott
A wind is ruffling the tawny pelt
Of Africa, Kikuyu, quick as flies,
Batten upon the bloodstreams of the veldt.
Corpses are scattered through a paradise.
A Serious and Pathetical Contemplation of the Mercies of God
© Thomas Traherne
For all the mysteries, engines, instruments, wherewith the world is filled, which we are able to frame and use to thy glory.
For all the trades, variety of operations, cities, temples, streets, bridges, mariner's compass, admirable picture, sculpture, writing, printing, songs and music; wherewith the world is beautified and adorned.
Small Poem About The Hounds And The Hares
© Lisel Mueller
After the kill, there is the feast.
And toward the end, when the dancing subsides
and the young have sneaked off somewhere,
the hounds, drunk on the blood of the hares,
Love
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
A life was mine full of the close concern
Of many-voiced affairs. The world sped fast;
The Only Daughter. Illustration of a Picture
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
They bid me strike the idle strings,
As if my summer days
Dead Men Tell No Tales
© Haniel Long
They say that dead men tell no tales!
Except of barges with red sails
And sailors mad for nightingales;
The Path Through The Snow
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
BARE and sunshiny, bright and bleak,
Rounded cold as a dead maid's cheek,
Folded white as a sinner's shroud,
Or wandering angel's robes of cloud.--
Well I know, well I know
Over the fields the path through the snow.
Alive Together
© Lisel Mueller
Speaking of marvels, I am alive
together with you, when I might have been
alive with anyone under the sun,
when I might have been Abelard's woman
Night Song
© Lisel Mueller
Among rocks, I am the loose one,
among aarows, I am the heart,
among daughters, I am the recluse,
among sons, the one who dies young.
