Love poems
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Since There Is No Escape
© Sara Teasdale
SINCE there is no escape, since at the end
My body will be utterly destroyed,
The Heart of a Boy
© Katharine Tynan
The heart of a boy is full of light,
Naked of self, quite pure and clean,
No shadows lurk in it: it is bright
Where God Himself hath been.
Dream Song 56: Hell is empty. O that has come to pass
© John Berryman
Hell is empty. O that has come to pass
which the cut Alexandrian foresaw,
and Hell is empty.
Lightning fell silent where the Devil knelt
and over the whole grave space hath settled awe
in a full death of guilt.
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 02 - part 05
© Torquato Tasso
XLVI
"Sir King," quoth she, "my name Clorinda hight,
En-Dor
© Rudyard Kipling
Whispers shall comfort us out of the dark--
Hands--ah God!--that we knew!
Visions .and voices --look and hark!--
Shall prove that the tale is true,
An that those who have passed to the further shore
May' be hailed--at a price--on the road to En-dor.
Myra
© Fulke Greville
I, with whose colours Myra dress'd her head,
I, that ware posies of her own hand-making,
I, that mine own name in the chimneys read
By Myra finely wrought ere I was waking:
Must I look on, in hope time coming may
With change bring back my turn again to play?
Anhelli - Chapter 2
© Juliusz Slowacki
The Shaman, when he had searched in the hearts of that multitude of exiles,
said to himself: "Verily, I have not found here what I sought;
lo, their hearts are weak and they give themselves over to be conquered by grief.
Falerina
© Madison Julius Cawein
The night is hung above us, love,
With heavy stars that love us, love,
With clouds that curl in purple and pearl,
And winds that whisper of us, love:
On burly hills and valleys, that lie dimmer,
The amber foot-falls of the moon-sylphs glimmer.
The Botanic Garden( Part III)
© Erasmus Darwin
-HERE her sad Consort, stealing through the gloom
Of
Hangs in mute anguish o'er the scutcheon'd hearse,
Or graves with trembling style the votive verse.
Delilah
© Rudyard Kipling
Delilah Aberyswith was a lady -- not too young --
With a perfect taste in dresses and a badly-bitted tongue,
With a thirst for information, and a greater thirst for praise,
And a little house in Simla in the Prehistoric Days.
The Dead King
© Rudyard Kipling
Who in the Realm to-day lays down dear life for the sake of a land more dear?
And, unconcerned for his own estate, toils till the last grudged sands have run?
Let him approach. It is proven here
Our King asks nothing of any man more than Our King himself, has done.
Sonnet 31: With How Sad Steps
© Sir Philip Sidney
With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies!
How silently, and with how wan a face!
We Hail Thee Now, O Jesus
© Frederick George Scott
We hail thee now, O Jesus,
thy presence here we own,
A Plea For The Gray
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WHEN the land' s martyr, mid her tears,
Outbreathed his latest breath,
The discord of long, festering years,
Lay also dumb in death:
The Craftsman
© Rudyard Kipling
Once, after long-drawn revel at The Mermaid,
He to the overbearing Boanerges
Jonson, uttered (if half of it were liquor,
Blessed be the vintage!)
A Toast To Our Native Land
© Robert Seymour Bridges
Huge and alert, irascible yet strong,
We make our fitful way 'mid right and wrong.
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XLVII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Sublime discussions! Let who will be wise!
These are the things that touch us and transcend.
The logic of all beauty is surprise,
The reason of all love the unseen end.
A Code of Morals
© Rudyard Kipling
Now Jones had left his new-wed bride to keep his house in order,
And hied away to the Hurrum Hills above the Afghan border,
To sit on a rock with a heliograph; but ere he left he taught
His wife the working of the Code that sets the miles at naught.
Christmas in India
© Rudyard Kipling
Dim dawn behind the tamerisks -- the sky is saffron-yellow --
As the women in the village grind the corn,
And the parrots seek the riverside, each calling to his fellow
That the Day, the staring Easter Day is born.
