Love poems
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Chance Meetings
© Conrad Aiken
In the mazes of loitering people, the watchful and furtive,
The shadows of tree-trunks and shadows of leaves,
In the drowse of the sunlight, among the low voices,
I suddenly face you,
Love in Thy Youth, Fair Maid; Be Wise
© Walter Porter
Love in thy youth, fair maid; be wise, Old Time will make thee colder,And though each morning new arise Yet we each day grow older
An Essay on Man: Epistle III
© Alexander Pope
Here then we rest: "The Universal CauseActs to one end, but acts by various laws
A Woman's Last Word
© Piatt Sarah Morgan Bryan
Promise me nothing. Men are mortal. I Loose from your heart my hand.(The grave is deeper than the heavens are high.) My house .- of Love .- was builded on the sand.
"We Women"
© Piatt Sarah Morgan Bryan
Heart-ache and heart-break .- always that or this: Sometimes it rains just when the sun should shine;Sometimes a glove or ribbon goes amiss; Sometimes, in youth, your lover should be mine.
The Palace-Burner
© Piatt Sarah Morgan Bryan
She has been burning palaces. ."To see The sparks look pretty in the wind?." Well, yes .-And something more. But women brave as she Leave much for cowards such as I to guess.
A New Thanksgiving
© Piatt Sarah Morgan Bryan
For war, plague, pestilence, flood, famine, fire, For Christ discrowned, for false gods set on high;For fools, whose hands must have their hearts' desire, We thank Thee
Engaged Too Long
© Piatt Sarah Morgan Bryan
Why do I grieve with summer here?I want the flower that died last year;I want the old drops of the dew,And my old love, sir, .- and not you.
The Coming of Eve
© Piatt Sarah Morgan Bryan
God gave the world to Man in the Beginning. Alone in Eden there and lord of allHe mused: "There may be one thing worth the winning. (All else is mine.) When will that Apple fall?
The Black Princess
© Piatt Sarah Morgan Bryan
I knew a Princess: she was old, Crisp-haired, flat-featured, with a lookSuch as no dainty pen of gold Would write of in a fairy book.
The Splendid Shilling
© Philips John
-- -- Sing, Heavenly Muse,Things unattempted yet in Prose or Rhime,A Shilling, Breeches, and Chimera's Dire.
Bleinheim, a Poem
© Philips John
From low and abject themes the grov'ling museNow mounts aërial, to sing of armsTriumphant, and emblaze the martial actsOf Britain's hero; may the verse not sinkBeneath his merits, but detain a whileThy ear, O Harley, (though thy country's wealDepends on thee, though mighty Anne requiresThy hourly counsels) since with ev'ry artThy self adorn'd, the mean essays of youthThou wilt not damp, but guide, wherever found,The willing genius to the muses' seat:Therefore thee first, and last, the muse shall sing
A Farewell Entitled to the Famous and Fortunate Generals of our English Forces
© George Peele
Have done with care, my hearts, abord amain,With stretching sail to plow the swelling waves
The Vow
© Peacock Molly
Every time you suffer disappointmentit makes me fall in love with you againbecause I almost cannot bear to seethe dumbstruck purity in your face benton figuring how or why you couldn't seeit coming
My God Why Are You Crying?
© Peacock Molly
When someone cries, after making love spillsa pail of tears inside, it is the acheof years, all the early years' emptinesshollowed into a pail-like form which fillswith feeling now felt aloud, that resounds
