Love poems
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The Scallop Shell
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
A scallop shell, loosed by the lifting tide,
Had left a friendly shore, the seas to brave;
Brown Of Ossawatomie
© John Greenleaf Whittier
John Brown of Ossawatomie spake on his dying day:
"I will not have to shrive my soul a priest in Slavery's pay.
But let some poor slave-mother whom I have striven to free,
With her children, from the gallows-stair put up a prayer for me!"
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 01 - part 04
© Torquato Tasso
XLI
Guelpho next them the land and place possest,
Niobe
© Alfred Noyes
How like the sky she bends above her child,
One with the great horizon of her pain!
The Reunion
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The gulf of seven and fifty years
We stretch our welcoming hands across;
The distance but a pebble's toss
Between us and our youth appears.
Sonnet XLI: I Thank All
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I thank all who have loved me in their hearts,
With thanks and love from mine. Deep thanks to all
What the Coal-Heaver Said
© Vachel Lindsay
Out of it all there comes a flame,
A splendid widening light.
Sorrow is turned to mystery
And Death into delight.
On the Building of Springfield
© Vachel Lindsay
Let not our town be large, remembering
That little Athens was the Muses' home,
That Oxford rules the heart of London still,
That Florence gave the Renaissance to Rome.
The Portrait
© Siegfried Sassoon
I watch you, gazing at me from the wall,
And wonder how you'd match your dreams with mine,
If, mastering time's illusion, I could call
You back to share this quiet candle-shine.
I Heard Immanuel Singing
© Vachel Lindsay
(The poem shows the Master, with his work done, singing to free his heart in Heaven.)
I heard Immanuel singing
Within his own good lands,
I saw him bend above his harp.
The Illinois Village
© Vachel Lindsay
O you who lose the art of hope,
Whose temples seem to shrine a lie,
Whose sidewalks are but stones of fear,
Who weep that Liberty must die,
Where Is the Real Non-Resistant
© Vachel Lindsay
Who can surrender to Christ, dividing his best with the stranger,
Giving to each what he asks, braving the uttermost danger
All for the enemy, MAN? Who can surrender till death
His words and his works, his house and his lands,
His eyes and his heart and his breath?
Don Juan: Canto The Fifteenth
© George Gordon Byron
Ah!--What should follow slips from my reflection;
Whatever follows ne'ertheless may be
The Beggar's Valentine
© Vachel Lindsay
Kiss me and comfort my heart
Maiden honest and fine.
I am the pilgrim boy
Lame, but hunting the shrine;
Not Waving but Drowning
© Stevie Smith
Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.
