Love poems
/ page 966 of 1285 /
To My Old Friend, William Leachman
© James Whitcomb Riley
Fer forty year and better you have been a friend to me,
Through days of sore afflictions and dire adversity,
You allus had a kind word of counsul to impart,
Which was like a healin' 'intment to the sorrow of my hart.
From The Philosophers Stone
© Hans Christian Andersen
Now she heard the following words sadly sung,
Life is a shadow that flits away
The Self-Seeker
© Robert Frost
"Willis, I didn't want you here to-day:
The lawyer's coming for the company.
I'm going to sell my soul, or, rather, feet.
Five hundred dollars for the pair, you know."
Il Pleure dans mon Coeur
© Paul Verlaine
Il pleure dans mon coeur
Comme il pleut sur la ville.
Quelle est cette langueur
Qui pénêtre mon coeur ?
Alvisi Contarini
© Arthur Symons
Alvisi Contarini slaying Christ
Swore in his beard: "I am a melon sliced."
Almon Keefer
© James Whitcomb Riley
Ah, Almon Keefer! what a boy you were,
With your back-tilted hat and careless hair,
And open, honest, fresh, fair face and eyes
With their all-varying looks of pleased surprise
And joyous interest in flower and tree,
And poising humming-bird, and maundering bee.
An Apple Tree In France
© Edgar Albert Guest
An apple tree beside the way,
Drinking the sunshine day by day
Conversation
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
We were a baker's dozen in the house-six women and six men
Besides myself; and all of us had known
A Drought Idyll
© George Essex Evans
It was the middle of the drought; the ground was hot and bare,
You might search for grass with a microscope, but nary grass was there;
The hay was done, the cornstalks gone, the trees were dying fast,
The sun o'erhead was a curse in read and the wind was a furnace blast;
The waterholes were sun-baked mud, the drays stood thick as bees
Around the well, a mile away, amid the ringbarked trees.
Rather Stay Home
© Edgar Albert Guest
NEVER so happy as when I 'm at home,
I 'm not so anxious to wander or roam;
Written to be Spoken by Mrs. Siddons
© Samuel Rogers
Yes, 'tis the pulse of life! my fears were vain!
I wake, I breathe, and am myself again.
Still in this nether world; no seraph yet!
Nor walks my spirit, when the sun is set,
An Epistle Of The Right Honourable Sir Robert Walpole
© Richard Savage
As the rich cloud by due degrees expands,
And show'rs down plenty thick on sundry lands,
Thy spreading worth in various bounty fell,
Made genius flourish, and made art excel.
A Fountain, a Bottle, a Donkey's Ears, and Some Books
© Robert Frost
Old Davis owned a solid mica mountain
In Dalton that would someday make his fortune.
There'd been some Boston people out to see it:
And experts said that deep down in the mountain
The mica sheets were big as plate-glass windows.
He'd like to take me there and show it to me.
Sonnet 136: "If thy soul check thee that I come so near,..."
© William Shakespeare
If thy soul check thee that I come so near,
Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy Will,
Evening Hymn
© Henry Kendall
The crag-pent breezes sob and moan where hidden waters glide;
And twilight wanders round the earth with slow and shadowy stride.
