Love poems
/ page 938 of 1285 /The Exequy
© Henry King
Accept, thou shrine of my dead saint,
Instead of dirges, this complaint;
And for sweet flow'rs to crown thy hearse,
From thy griev'd friend, whom thou might'st see
Quite melted into tears for thee.
The Poor Man's Lamb
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Where art thou Nathan? where's that Spirit now,
Giv'n to brave Vice, tho' on a Prince's Brow?
In what low Cave, or on what Desert Coast,
Now Virtue wants it, is thy Presence lost?
The Phoenix
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
A Female Friend advis'd a Swain
(Whose Heart she wish'd at ease)
Make Love thy Pleasure, not thy Pain,
Nor let it deeply seize.
The Petition for an Absolute Retreat
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Give me, O indulgent Fate!
Give me yet before I die
A sweet, but absolute retreat,
'Mongst paths so lost and trees so high
In Praise Of England
© Alfred Austin
From tangled brake and trellised bower
Bring every bud that blows,
The Search After Happiness. A Pastoral Drama
© Hannah More
"To rear the tender thought,
To teach the young idea how to shoot,
To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind,
To breathe th' enlivening spirit, and to fix
The generous purpose in the female breast." ~Thomson.
The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam 1 - 250 (Whinfield Translation)
© Omar Khayyám
At dawn a cry through all the tavern shrilled,
"Arise, my brethren of the revelers' guild,
That I may fill our measure full of wine,
Or e'er the measure of our days be filled."
The King and the Shepherd
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
As cou'd be prov'd, but that our plainer Task
Do's no such Toil, or Definitions ask;
But to be so rehears'd, as first 'twas told,
When such old Stories pleas'd in Days of old.
My Secret Path
© James Baker
Nuclear fusion is a delight when you consider the stars,
The destruction of one life seems to lighten our own.
The Snow
© Emile Verhaeren
Uninterruptedly falls the snow,
Like meagre, long wool-strands, scant and slow,
O'er the meagre, long plain disconsolate.
Cold with lovelessness, warm with hate.
Jim And Bill
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Bill Jones was cynical and sad;
He thought sincerity was rare;
Most people, Bill believed, were bad
And few were fair.
Love, The Interpreter
© Madison Julius Cawein
Thou art the music that I hear in sleep,
The poetry that lures me on in dreams;
The Change
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
No lusty Tree that near thee grows,
(Tho' it beneath thy Shelter rose)
Will to thy Age a Staff become.
Fall, wretched Building! to thy Tomb.
Thou, and thy painted Roofs, in Ruin mixt,
Fall to the Earth, for That alone is fixt.
The Cautious Lovers
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Silvia, let's from the Crowd retire;
For, What to you and me
(Who but each other do desire)
Is all that here we see?
The Old Oak Tree
© Annie McCarer Darlington
Woodman, spare that tree!
Touch not a single bough:
In youth it sheltered me,
And I'd protect it now.
At Peace
© Amado Ruiz de Nervo
Very near my setting sun, I bless you, Life
because you never gave me neither unfilled hope
nor unfair work, nor undeserved sorrow/pain
The Hospital
© Anonymous
"The LORD will strengthen him upon the bed of
languishing: Thou wilt make all his bed in his sickness."
~ Psalm 41:3 ~