Poem of the day
Categories
Poetry Hubs
Explore
You can also search by theme, metrics, form
and more.
Poems
Poets
Page 16 of 190
Previous
Next
Stanzas
Strange! that one lightly whispered toneIs far, far sweeter unto me,Than all the sounds that kiss the earth,Or breathe along the sea;But, lady, when thy voice I greet,Not heavenly music seems so sweet.I look upon the fair blue skies,And naught but empty air I see;But when I turn me to thin eyes,It seemeth unto meTen thousand angels spread their wingsWithin those little azure rings.The lily bath the softest leafThat ever western breeze bath fanned,But thou shalt have the tender flower,So I may take thy hand;That little hand to me doth yieldMore joy than all the broidered field.O lady! there be many thingsThat seem right fair, below, above;But sure not one among them allIs half so sweet as love; -
Oliver Wendell Holmes
Farewell
Farewell to thee! but not farewellTo all my fondest thoughts of thee:Within my heart they still shall dwell;And they shall cheer and comfort me.O, beautiful, and full of grace!If thou hadst never met mine eye,I had not dreamed a living faceCould fancied charms so far outvie.If I may ne'er behold againThat form and face so dear to me,Nor hear thy voice, still would I fainPreserve, for aye, their memory.That voice, the magic of whose toneCan wake an echo in my breast,Creating feelings that, alone,Can make my tranced spirit blest.That laughing eye, whose sunny beamMy memory would not cherish less;And oh, that smile! whose joyous gleamNor mortal language can express.Adieu, but let me cherish, st...
Anne Bronte
The Lovers' Colloquy.
("Mon duc, rien qu'un moment.")[HERNANI, Act V.]One little moment to indulge the sightWith the rich beauty of the summer's night.The harp is hushed, and, see, the torch is dim, -Night and ourselves together. To the brimThe cup of our felicity is filled.Each sound is mute, each harsh sensation stilled.Dost thou not think that, e'en while nature sleeps,Some power its amorous vigils o'er us keeps?No cloud in heaven; while all around repose,Come taste with me the fragrance of the rose,Which loads the night-air with its musky breath,While everything is still as nature's death.E'en as you spoke - and gentle words were thoseSpoken by you, - the silver moon uprose;How that mysterious union of her ray,With your impassioned...
Victor-Marie Hugo
Her New-Year Posy
When I seek the world throughFor images of you,Though apple-blossom is gladAnd the lily stately-sad,Gilliflowers kind of breath,Rosemary true till death;Though the wind can stir the grassTo memories as you pass.And the soft-singing streamsAre music like your dreams;Though constant stars embraceThe quiet of your face,Your smile lights up sunrise,And evening's in your eyes,Each so shadows its part,All cannot show your heart;And weighing the beauty of earthI see it so little worth,When reckoned beside you,That I hold heaven for trueBut all my heaven is you.
William Kerr
Quid Non Supremus, Amantes?
Why is there in the least touch of her handsMore grace than other women's lips bestow,If love is but a slave in fleshly bandsOf flesh to flesh, wherever love may go?Why choose vain grief and heavy-hearted hoursFor her lost voice, and dear remembered hair,If love may cull his honey from all flowers,And girls grow thick as violets, everywhere?Nay! She is gone, and all things fall apart;Or she is cold, and vainly have we prayed;And broken is the summer's splendid heart,And hope within a deep, dark grave is laid.As man aspires and falls, yet a soul springsOut of his agony of flesh at last,So love that flesh enthralls, shall rise on wingsSoul-centred, when the rule of flesh is past.Then, most High Love, or wreathed with myrtl...
Ernest Christopher Dowson
Jewels
The girl with the ruby lips we like, The lass with teeth of pearl,The maid with the eyes like diamonds, The cheek-like-coral girl;The girl with the alabaster brow, The lass from the Emerald Isle.All these we like, but not the jade With the sardonyx smile.
Unknown
This Heart That Flutters Near My Heart
This heart that flutters near my heartMy hope and all my riches is,Unhappy when we draw apartAnd happy between kiss and kiss:My hope and all my riches, yes!And all my happiness.For there, as in some mossy nestThe wrens will divers treasures keep,I laid those treasures I possessedEre that mine eyes had learned to weep.Shall we not be as wise as theyThough love live but a day?
James Joyce
Lover's Song.
("Mon âme à ton coeur s'est donnée.")[ANGELO, Act II., May, 1835.]My soul unto thy heart is given,In mystic fold do they entwine,So bound in one that, were they riven,Apart my soul would life resign.Thou art my song and I the lyre;Thou art the breeze and I the brier;The altar I, and thou the fire;Mine the deep love, the beauty thine!As fleets away the rapid hourWhile weeping - mayMy sorrowing layTouch thee, sweet flower.ERNEST OSWALD COE.
And Love Has Changed To Kindliness
When love has changed to kindliness,Oh, love, our hungry lips, that pressSo tight that Time's an old god's dreamNodding in heaven, and whisper stuffSeven million years were not enoughTo think on after, make it seemLess than the breath of children playing,A blasphemy scarce worth the saying,A sorry jest, "When love has grownTo kindliness, to kindliness!" . . .And yet, the best that either's knownWill change, and wither, and be less,At last, than comfort, or its ownRemembrance. And when some caressTendered in habit (once a flameAll heaven sang out to) wakes the shameUnworded, in the steady eyesWe'll have, that day, what shall we do?Being so noble, kill the twoWho've reached their second-best? Being wise,Break cleanly off, ...
Rupert Brooke
Fragment Of A Mythological Hymn To Love.[1]
Blest infant of eternity! Before the day-star learned to move,In pomp of fire, along his grand career, Glancing the beamy shafts of lightFrom his rich quiver to the farthest sphere, Thou wert alone, oh Love! Nestling beneath the wings of ancient Night, Whose horrors seemed to smile in shadowing thee.No form of beauty soothed thine eye, As through the dim expanse it wandered wide;No kindred spirit caught thy sigh, As o'er the watery waste it lingering died.Unfelt the pulse, unknown the power, That latent in his heart was sleeping,--Oh Sympathy! that lonely hour Saw Love himself thy absence weeping.But look, what glory through the darkness beams!Celestial airs along the water glide:--...
Thomas Moore
A Song By The Shore.
"Lose and love" is love's first art;So it was with thee and me,For I first beheld thy heartOn the night I last saw thee.Pine-woods and mysteries!Sea-sands and sorrows!Hearts fluttered by a breezeThat bodes dark morrows, morrows,--Bodes dark morrows!Moonlight in sweet overflowPoured upon the earth and sea!Lovelight with intenser glowIn the deeps of thee and me!Clasped hands and silences!Hearts faint and throbbing!The weak wind sighing in the trees!The strong surf sobbing, sobbing,--The strong surf sobbing!
Bliss Carman
Friendship
A ruddy drop of manly bloodThe surging sea outweighs,The world uncertain comes and goes;The lover rooted stays.I fancied he was fled,--And, after many a year,Glowed unexhausted kindliness,Like daily sunrise there.My careful heart was free again,O friend, my bosom said,Through thee alone the sky is arched,Through thee the rose is red;All things through thee take nobler form,And look beyond the earth,The mill-round of our fate appearsA sun-path in thy worth.Me too thy nobleness has taughtTo master my despair;The fountains of my hidden lifeAre through thy friendship fair.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Love's Rose.
1.Hopes, that swell in youthful breasts,Live not through the waste of time!Love's rose a host of thorns invests;Cold, ungenial is the clime,Where its honours blow.Youth says, 'The purple flowers are mine,'Which die the while they glow.2.Dear the boon to Fancy given,Retracted whilst it's granted:Sweet the rose which lives in Heaven,Although on earth 'tis planted,Where its honours blow,While by earth's slaves the leaves are rivenWhich die the while they glow.3.Age cannot Love destroy,But perfidy can blast the flower,Even when in most unwary hourIt blooms in Fancy's bower.Age cannot Love destroy,But perfidy can rend the shrineIn which its vermeil splendours shine.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
To Charlotte.
'Midst the noise of merriment and glee,'Midst full many a sorrow, many a care,Charlotte, I remember, we remember thee,How, at evening's hour so fair,Thou a kindly hand didst reach us,When thou, in some happy placeWhere more fair is Nature s face,Many a lightly-hidden traceOf a spirit loved didst teach us.Well 'tis that thy worth I rightly knew,That I, in the hour when first we met,While the first impression fill'd me yet,Call'd thee then a girl both good and true.Rear'd in silence, calmly, knowing nought,On the world we suddenly are thrown;Hundred thousand billows round us sport;All things charm us many please alone,Many grieve us, and as hour on hour is stealing,
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
He That Loves A Rosy Cheek
He that loves a rosy cheek,Or a coral lip admires,Or from star-like eyes doth seekFuel to maintain his fires:As old Time makes these decay,So his flames must waste away.But a smooth and steadfast mind,Gentle thoughts, and calm desires,Hearts with equal love combined,Kindle never-dying fires:Where these are not, I despiseLovely cheeks or lips or eyes.
Thomas Carew
To Marguerite
We were apart: yet, day by day,I bade my heart more constant be;I bade it keep the world away,And grow a home for only thee:Nor feard but thy love likewise grew,Like mine, each day more tried, more true.The fault was grave: I might have known,What far too soon, alas, I learndThe heart can bind itself alone,And faith is often unreturnd.Self-swayd our feelings ebb and swell:Thou lovest no more: Farewell! Farewell!Farewell! and thou, thou lonely heart,Which never yet without remorseEven for a moment didnt departFrom thy remote and spherèd courseTo haunt the place where passions reign,Back to thy solitude again!Back, with the conscious thrill of shameWhich Luna felt, that summer night,Flash through he...
Matthew Arnold
Love Song.
Once in the world's first prime, When nothing lived or stirred - Nothing but new-born Time, Nor was there even a bird - The Silence spoke to a Star; But I do not dare repeat What it said to its love afar, It was too sweet, too sweet. But there, in the fair world's youth, Ere sorrow had drawn breath, When nothing was known but Truth, Nor was there even death, The Star to Silence was wed, And the Sun was priest that day, And they made their bridal-bed High in the Milky Way. For the great white star had heard Her silent lover's speech; It needed no passionate word To pledge them each to each. Oh, lady fair...
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Humility
What girl but, having gathered flowers,Stript the beds and spoilt the bowers,From the lapful light she carriesDrops a careless bud? nor tarriesTo regain the waif and stray:Store enough for home shell say.So say I too: give your loverHeaps of loving, under, over,Whelm him, make the one the wealthy!Am I all so poor who, stealthyWork it was! picked up what fell:Not the worst bud, who can tell?
Robert Browning