Love poems
/ page 941 of 1285 /Eliza
© Erasmus Darwin
Now stood Eliza on the wood-crowned height,
O'er Minden's plain, spectatress of the fight;
Daisies
© Connie Wanek
In the democracy of daisies
every blossom has one vote.
The question on the ballot is
Does he love me?
A Dead Baby
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
LITTLE soul, for such brief space that entered
In this little body straight and chilly,
Little life that fluttered and departed,
Like a moth from an unopened lily,
Little being, without name or nation,
Where is now thy place among creation?
When Age Comes On
© James Whitcomb Riley
Just as of old! The world rolls on and on;
The day dies into night--night into dawn--
Dawn into dusk--through centuries untold.--
Just as of old.
Listen, Lord: A Prayer
© James Weldon Johnson
O Lord, we come this morning
Knee-bowed and body-bent
Before Thy throne of grace.
O Lord--this morning--
To A Baby.
© Robert Crawford
I.
Two hands that hold the world in fee,
So tender, yet so bold:
Whatever life has now for me,
Songs of the Voices of Birds: The Nightingale Heard by the Unsatisfied Heart
© Jean Ingelow
When in a May-day hush
Chanteth the Missel-thrush
The harp o’ the heart makes answer with murmurous stirs;
When Robin-redbreast sings,
We think on budding springs,
And Culvers when they coo are love’s remembrancers.
A Song of the Lilac
© Louise Imogen Guiney
Above the wall that's broken,
And from the coppice thinned,
Wise People
© Margaret Widdemer
I THINK that we are very strong and wise,
Mocking at love and at the grief thereafter, . . .
For sometimes I forget him in your eyes
And sometimes you forget her in my laughter.
Womanhood
© Catherine Anderson
She slides over
the hot upholstery
of her mother's car,
this schoolgirl of fifteen
Before Sleep
© Catherine Anderson
I was in love with anatomy
the symmetry of my body
poised for flight,
the heights it would take
Thick Orchards, All in White
© Jean Ingelow
Thick orchards, all in white,
Stand 'neath blue voids of light,
And birds among the branches blithely sing,
For they have all they know;
There is no more, but so,
All perfectness of living, fair delight of spring.
Reply to Some Verses of J.M.B. Pigot, Esq.
© Lord Byron
Why, Pigot, complain of this damsel's disdain,
Why thus in despair do you fret?
For months you may try, yet, believe me, a sigh
Will never obtain a coquette.
Siege and Conquest of Alhama, The
© Lord Byron
The Moorish King rides up and down,
Through Granada's royal town;
From Elvira's gate to those
Of Bivarambla on he goes.
Woe is me, Alhama!
To M. S. G.
© Lord Byron
Whene'er I view those lips of thine,
Their hue invites my fervent kiss;
Yet, I forego that bliss divine,
Alas! it were---unhallow'd bliss.
To M
© Lord Byron
Oh! did those eyes, instead of fire,
With bright, but mild affection shine:
Though they might kindle less desire,
Love, more than mortal, would be thine.
Lachin Y Gair
© Lord Byron
Away, ye gay landscapes, ye garden of roses!
In you let the minions of luxury rove;
Restore me to the rocks, where the snowflake reposes,
Though still they are sacred to freedom and love:
The Vision Of The Maid Of Orleans - The Second Book
© Robert Southey
She spake, and lo! celestial radiance beam'd
Amid the air, such odors wafting now
Stanzas To A Lady, On Leaving England
© Lord Byron
'Tis done---and shivering in the gale
The bark unfurls her snowy sail;
And whistling o'er the bending mast,
Loud sings on high the fresh'ning blast;
And I must from this land be gone,
Because I cannot love but one.