Love poems
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Adddress To Fancy
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
OH, queen of dreams! 'tis now the hour,
Thy fav'rite hour of silence and of sleep;
Come, bring thy wand, whose magic pow'r,
Can wake the troubled spirits of the deep!
The Legend of Mirth
© Rudyard Kipling
The Four Archangels, so the legends tell,
Raphael, Gabriel, Michael, Azrael,
Being first of those to whom the Power was shown
Stood first of all the Host before The Throne,
Natalias Resurrection: Sonnet XXV
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Oh, miracle of love! That death, which seems
So hard a master when he holds his prize,
Whom no cajoleries, nor stratagems
Of beauty's power, nor wisdom's sophistries,
1805
© Robert Graves
At Viscount Nelsons lavish funeral,
While the mob milled and yelled about St Pauls,
A General chatted with an Admiral:
The Last Rhyme of True Thomas
© Rudyard Kipling
The King has called for priest and cup,
The King has taken spur and blade
To dub True Thomas a belted knight,
And all for the sake o' the songs he made.
On An Air Of Rameau
© Arthur Symons
A melancholy desire of ancient things
Floats like a faded perfume out of the wires;
Pallid lovers, what unforgotten desires,
Whispered once, are retold in your whisperings?
Nos Immortales
© Stephen Vincent Benet
I have known hours, slow and golden-glowing,
Lovely with laughter and suffused with light,
O Lord, in such a time appoint my going,
When the hands clench, and the cold face grows white,
And the spark dies within the feeble brain,
Spilling its star-dust back to dust again.
The Ladies
© Rudyard Kipling
I've taken my fun where I've found it;
I've rouged an' I've ranged in my time;
I've 'ad my pickin' o' seethearts,
An' four o' the lot was prime.
Songs of the Night Watches (complete)
© Jean Ingelow
Come out and hear the waters shoot, the owlet hoot, the owlet hoot;
Yon crescent moon, a golden boat, hangs dim behind the tree, O!
The dropping thorn makes white the grass, O sweetest lass, and sweetest
lass;
Come out and smell the ricks of hay adown the croft with me, O!”
The Kingdom
© Rudyard Kipling
Now we are come to our Kingdom,
And the State is thus and thus;
Our legions wait at the Palace gate--
Little it profits us.
Now we are come to our Kingdom!
Jubal and Tubal Cain
© Rudyard Kipling
Canadian
Jubal sang of the Wrath of God
And the curse of thistle and thorn--
But Tubal got him a pointed rod,
The Rude Rat And The Unostentatious Oyster
© Guy Wetmore Carryl
Upon the shore, a mile or more
From traffic and confusion,
The Surrender
© Henry King
My once dear Love; hapless that I no more
Must call thee so: the rich affections store
That fed our hopes, lies now exhaust and spent,
Like summes of treasure unto Bankrupts lent.
In the Matter of One Compass
© Rudyard Kipling
Oh, drunken Wave! Oh, driving Cloud!
Rage of the Deep and sterile Rain,
By love upheld, by God allowed,
We go, but we return again!
To Sir Henry Wotton At His Going Ambassador To Venice
© John Donne
AFTER those reverend papers, whose soul is
Our good and great king's loved hand and fear'd name ;
By which to you he derives much of his,
And, how he may, makes you almost the same,
The Heritage
© Rudyard Kipling
Our Fathers in a wondrous age,
Ere yet the Earth was small,
Ensured to us a heritage,
And doubted not at all
A Romance In The Rough
© Arthur Patchett Martin
A sturdy fellow, with a sunburnt face,
And thews and sinews of a giant mould;
A genial mind, that harboured nothing base,
A pocket void of gold.
A Poem On The Last Day - Book III
© Edward Young
Each gesture mourns, each look is black with care,
And every groan is loaden with despair.
Reader, if guilty, spare the Muse, and find
A truer image pictured in thy mind.
Great-Heart
© Rudyard Kipling
Theodore Roosevelt"The interpreter then called for a man-servant of his, one Great-Heart."--Bunyan's' Pilgrim's Process Concerning brave Captains
Our age hath made known
For all men to honour,
One standeth alone,
To The One Of Fictive Music
© Wallace Stevens
Sister and mother and diviner love,
And of the sisterhood of the living dead
