Love poems
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On The Death Of W. C.
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Thou arrant robber, Death!
Couldst thou not find
Some lesser one than he
To rob of breath,--
Some poorer mind
Thy prey to be?
The Pierrot Of The Minute
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
_A glade in the Parc due Petit Trianon. In the centre a Doric temple with
steps coming down the stage. On the left a little Cupid on a pedestal.
Twilight._
After All Is Said And Done
© Edgar Albert Guest
AFTER all is said and done,
After all the work and fun,
In Egypt.
© Robert Crawford
Speak softly, wake her not! We all must die.
This is a sleep that wraps her in secure
From Caesar's luck. Yet is that veiny bosom
Warm where now love's despair wrought life's undoing,
Ode To a Young Lady
© John Logan
Maria, bright with beauty's glow,
In conscious gayety you go
The pride of all the park:
Attracted groups in silence gaze
And soft behind you hear the praise,
And whisper of the spark.
Old Dwarf Heart
© Anne Sexton
True. All too true. I have never been at home in
life. All my decay has taken place upon a child.
Henderson the Rain King, by Saul Bellow
Love
© Edgar Albert Guest
Truth went forth on a search one day
I For the source of love that he might say
He had found its depth and its breadth for aye.
Song. "I am wearing away"
© Amelia Opie
I am wearing away like the snow in the sun,
I am wearing away from the pain in my heart;
But ne'er shall he know, who my peace has undone,
How bitter, how lasting, how deep is my smart.
Columbus Park by Anne Pierson Wiese: American Life in Poetry #130 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 200
© Ted Kooser
A number of American poets are adept at describing places and the people who inhabit them. Galway Kinnell's great poem, âThe Avenue Bearing the Initial of Christ into the New Worldâ? is one of those masterpieces, and there are many others. Here Anne Pierson Wiese, winner of the Walt Whitman Award from the Academy of American Poets, adds to that tradition.
Eclogue the Fourth Agib
© William Taylor Collins
In vain Circassia boasts her spicy groves,
For ever famed for pure and happy loves;
In vain she boasts her fairest of the fair,
Their eyes' blue languish and their golden hair!
Those eyes in tears their fruitless grief must send;
Those hairs the Tartar's cruel hand shall rend.
To A Lost Love
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
I seek no more to bridge the gulf that lies
Betwixt our separate ways;
For vainly my heart prays,
Hope droops her head and dies;
I see the sad, tired answer in your eyes.
The World
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
By day she woos me, soft, exceeding fair:
But all night as the moon so changeth she;
The Ballad of the Elder Son
© Henry Lawson
A son of elder sons I am,
Whose boyhood days were cramped and scant,
Wollongong
© Henry Kendall
Let me talk of years evanished, let me harp upon the time
When we trod these sands together, in our boyhood's golden prime;
Life's Eden.
© Robert Crawford
'Tis in sooth life's Eden,
We within it;
Love put all the seed in
To begin it,
The Task: Book V. -- The Winter Morning Walk
© William Cowper
Tis morning; and the sun, with ruddy orb
Ascending, fires the horizon; while the clouds,
Ode, Written in a Visit to the Country in Autumn
© John Logan
'Tis past! no more the Summer blooms!
Ascending in the rear,
