Joseph Addison - Eternity::Through all eternity to thee\nA joyful song I&apos;ll raise,\nFor oh! Eternity is too short\nTo utter all thy praise.\nJoseph Addison
Anonymous - I Love You::I Love You\nEvery morning, you are my first thought,\nAnd every night, my last.\nIn between, every breath\nEvery beat of my heart\nIs a gift to you, my love.\nAnonymous
Anonymous - I Wrote Your Name::I wrote your name in the sand\nbut the waves washed it away,\nthen I wrote it in the sky\nbut the wind blew it away,\nso I wrote it in my heart\nand that&apos;s where it will stay.\nAnonymous
Anonymous - Love Is...::Love is the greatest feeling,\nLove is like a play,\nLove is what I feel for you,\nEach and every day,\nLove is like a smile,\nLove is like a song,\nLove is a great emotion,\nThat keeps us going strong,\nI love you with my heart,\nMy body and my soul,\nI love the way I keep loving,\nLike a love I can&apos;t control,\nSo remember when your eyes meet mine,\nI love you with all my heart,\nAnd I have poured my entire soul into you,\nRight from the very start.\nAnonymous
Anonymous - Sunshine::You are the golden rays of sunshine\nThat brighten my heart\nOn the cloudy days.\nAnonymous
Matthew Arnold - Worldly Place::Even in a palace, life may be led well!\nSo spake the imperial sage, purest of men,\nMarcus Aurelius. But the stifling den\nOf common life, where, crowded up pell-mell,\nOur freedom for a little bread we sell,\nAnd drudge under some foolish master's ken\nWho rates us if we peer outside our pen--\nMatch'd with a palace, is not this a hell?\nEven in a palace! On his truth sincere,\nWho spoke these words, no shadow ever came;\nAnd when my ill-school'd spirit is aflame\nSome nobler, ampler stage of life to win,\nI'll stop, and say: "There were no succour here!\nThe aids to noble life are all within.\nMatthew Arnold (1822-1888)
Mathew Arnold - Youth and Calm::'Tis death! and peace, indeed, is here,\nAnd ease from shame, and rest from fear.\nThere's nothing can dismarble now\nThe smoothness of that limpid brow.\nBut is a calm like this, in truth,\nThe crowning end of life and youth,\nAnd when this boon rewards the dead,\nAre all debts paid, has all been said?\nAnd is the heart of youth so light,\nIts step so firm, its eye so bright,\nBecause on its hot brow there blows\nA wind of promise and repose\nFrom the far grave, to which it goes;\nBecause it hath the hope to come,\nOne day, to harbour in the tomb?\nAh no, the bliss youth dreams is one\nFor daylight, for the cheerful sun,\nFor feeling nerves and living breath--\nYouth dreams a bliss on this side death.\nIt dreams a rest, if not more deep,\nMore grateful than this marble sleep;\nIt hears a voice within it tell:\nCalm's not life's crown, though calm is well.\n'Tis all perhaps which man acquires,\nBut 'tis not what our youth desires.\nMathew Arnold (1822-188)
Mary Barber - To A Lady::To a Lady, Who Valu'd Herself on Speaking Her Mind in a Blunt Manner, Which She Call'd Being Sincere\nWELL you Sincerity display,\nA virtue wond'rous rare !\nNor value, tho' the world should say,\nYou're rude, so you're sincere.\nTo be sincere, then, give me leave ;\n And I will frankly own,\nSince you but this one virtue have,\n'Twere better you had none.\nMary Barber (1690?-1757)
Sarah Bernhardt - Your Words Are My Food::Your words are my food, your breath is my wine\nYou are everything to me.\nSarah Bernhardt
Ambrose Bierce - Elegy::Elegy, n. A composition in verse, in which, without employing any of the methods of humor, the writer aims to produce in the reader's mind the dampest kind of dejection. The most famous English example begins somewhat like this:\nThe cur foretells the knell of parting day;\nThe loafing herd winds slowly o'er the lea;\nThe wise man homewards plods; I only stay\nTo fiddle-faddle in a minor key.\nAmbrose Bierce (1842-1914?)
Ambrose Bierce - With A Book::Words shouting, singing, smiling, frowning--\nSense lacking.\nAh, nothing, more obscure than Browning,\nSave blacking.\nAmbrose Bierce (1842-1914?)
Ambrose Bierce - Alone::Alone, adj. In bad company.\nIn contact, lo! the flint and steel,\nBy spark and flame, the thought reveal\nThat he the metal, she the stone,\nHad cherished secretly alone.\nAmbrose Bierce (1842-1914?)
William Blake - The Sick Rose::O Rose, thou art sick!\nThe invisible worm\nThat flies in the night,\nIn the howling storm,\nHas found out thy bed\nOf crimson joy:\nAnd his dark secret love\nDoes thy life destroy.\nWilliam Blake (1757-1827)
William Blake - Ah! Sun-flower::Ah, Sun-flower! weary of time,\nWho countest the steps of the Sun,\nSeeking after that sweet golden clime\nWhere the traveller's journey is done:\nWhere the Youth pined away with desire,\nAnd the pale Virgin shrouded in snow\nArise from their graves, and aspire\nWhere my Sun-flower wishes to go.\nWilliam Blake (1757-1827)
William Blake - The Lamb::Little Lamb, who made thee?\nDost thou know who made thee?\nGave thee life, and bid thee feed\nBy the stream and o'er the mead;\nGave thee clothing of delight,\nSoftest clothing, woolly, bright;\nGave thee such a tender voice,\nMaking all the vales rejoice?\nLittle Lamb, who made thee?\nDost thou know who made thee?\nLittle Lamb, I'll tell thee,\nLittle Lamb, I'll tell thee:\nHe is called by thy name,\nFor he calls himself a Lamb.\nHe is meek, and he is mild;\nHe became a little child.\nI a child, and thou a lamb.\nWe are called by his name.\nLittle Lamb, God bless thee!\nLittle Lamb, God bless thee!\nWilliam Blake (1757-1827)
William Blake - The Tyger::Tyger! Tyger! burning bright\nIn the forests of the night,\nWhat immortal hand or eye\nCould frame thy fearful symmetry?\nIn what distant deeps or skies\nBurnt the fire of thine eyes?\nOn what wings dare he aspire?\nWhat the hand dare seize the fire?\nAnd what shoulder, and what art,\nCould twist the sinews of thy heart,\nAnd when thy heart began to beat,\nWhat dread hand? and what dread feet?\nWhat the hammer? what the chain?\nIn what furnace was thy brain?\nWhat the anvil? what dread grasp\nDare its deadly terrors clasp?\nWhen the stars threw down their spears,\nAnd water'd heaven with their tears,\nDid he smile his work to see?\nDid he who made the Lamb make thee?\nTyger! Tyger! burning bright\nIn the forests of the night,\nWhat immortal hand or eye,\nDare frame thy fearful symmetry?\nWilliam Blake (1757-1827)
Anne Bradstreet - To my Dear and Loving Husband::If ever two were one, then surely we.\nIf ever man were lov'd by wife, then thee.\nIf ever wife was happy in a man,\nCompare with me, ye women, if you can.\nI prize thy love more than whole Mines of gold\nOr all the riches that the East doth hold.\nMy love is such that Rivers cannot quench,\nNor ought but love from thee give recompetence.\nThy love is such I can no way repay.\nThe heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.\nThen while we live, in love let's so persever\nThat when we live no more, we may live ever.\nAnne Bradstreet (ca. 1612-1672)
Robert Browning - Love in a Life::I\nRoom after room,\nI hunt the house through\nWe inhabit together.\nHeart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her--\nNext time, herself!--not the trouble behind her\nLeft in the curtain, the couch's perfume!\nAs she brushed it, the cornice-wreath blossomed anew:\nYon looking-glass gleamed at the wave of her feather.\nII\nYet the day wears,\nAnd door succeeds door;\nI try the fresh fortune--\nRange the wide house from the wing to the centre.\nStill the same chance! she goes out as I enter.\nSpend my whole day in the quest,--who cares?\nBut 'tis twilight, you see,--with such suites to explore,\nSuch closets to search, such alcoves to importune!\nRobert Browning (1812-1889)
Robert Browning - As We Grow Older Together::Grow old along with me the best is yet to be.\nRobert Browning
Elizabeth Barrett Browning - I Love You Not Only::I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you.\nElizabeth Barrett Browning
Robert Burns - A Red, Red Rose::O my Luve's like a red, red rose,\nThat's newly sprung in June;\nO my Luve's like the melodie\nThat's sweetly play'd in tune.\nAs fair art thou, my bonie lass,\nSo deep in luve am I;\nAnd I will luve thee still, my Dear,\nTill a' the seas gang dry.\nTill a' the seas gang dry, my Dear,\nAnd the rocks melt wi' the sun;\nI will luve thee still my Dear,\nWhile the sands o' life shall run.\nAnd fare thee weel, my only Luve,\nAnd fare the weel, a while!\nAnd I will come again, my Luve,\nTho' it ware ten thousand mile!\nRobert Burns (1759-1796)
Lord Byron - She Walks in Beauty::She walks in beauty, like the night\nOf cloudless climes and starry skies;\nAnd all that's best of dark and bright\nMeet in her aspect and her eyes:\nThus mellow'd to that tender light\nWhich heaven to gaudy day denies.\nOne shade the more, one ray the less,\nHad half impair'd the nameless grace\nWhich waves in every raven tress,\nOr softly lightens o'er her face;\nWhere thoughts serenely sweet express\nHow pure, how dear their dwelling-place.\nAnd on that cheek, and o'er that brow,\nSo soft, so calm, yet eloquent,\nThe smiles that win, the tints that glow,\nBut tell of days in goodness spent,\nA mind at peace with all below,\nA heart whose love is innocent!\nGeorge Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824)
Lewis Carroll - A Boat Beneath A Sunny Sky::A BOAT beneath a sunny sky,\nLingering onward dreamily\nIn an evening of July --\nChildren three that nestle near,\nEager eye and willing ear,\nPleased a simple tale to hear --\nLong has paled that sunny sky:\nEchoes fade and memories die:\nAutumn frosts have slain July.\nStill she haunts me, phantomwise,\nAlice moving under skies\nNever seen by waking eyes.\nChildren yet, the tale to hear,\nEager eye and willing ear,\nLovingly shall nestle near.\nIn a Wonderland they lie,\nDreaming as the days go by,\nDreaming as the summers die:\nEver drifting down the stream --\nLingering in the golden dream --\nLife, what is it but a dream?\nLewis Carroll (1832-1898)
Govinda Krishna Chettur - The Temple Tank::Here, by this pool, where herons stand and wait,\nIn quietness I cannot imitate:\nWhere Dawn and Sunset fling with reckless hand\nA bounty that I cannot understand:\nWhere little things of fur and claw and scale,\nWith careless scorn put me beyond the pale,\nAnd the rapt silence broken by their stir\nWraps closer round the restless worshipper;\nHere, to this place of wonderment and peace,\nWith hurried steps, impatient, ill-at-ease,\nI come to shed this ceaseless strife that mars\nEven the beauty of the changeless stars:\nAnd I return, undaunted, calm, and slow,\nCareless of how I move, or where I go,\nWith benediction of this solitude,\nNot understanding God, but -- understood.\nGovinda Krishna Chettur (1898-1936)
Karen Clodfelder - Grow Old::As we grow older together,\nAs we continue to change with age,\nThere is one thing that will never change...\nI will always keep falling in love with you.\nKaren Clodfelder
Stephen Crane - In Heaven::In Heaven,\nSome little blades of grass\nStood before God.\n"What did you do?"\nThen all save one of the little blades\nBegan eagerly to relate\nThe merits of their lives.\nThis one stayed a small way behind\nAshamed.\nPresently God said:\n"And what did you do?"\nThe little blade answered: "Oh, my lord,\n"Memory is bitter to me\n"For if I did good deeds\n"I know not of them."\nThen God in all His splendor\nArose from His throne.\n"Oh, best little blade of grass," He said.\nStephen Crane (1871-1900)
Stephen Crane - Should the Wide World Roll Away::X\nShould the wide world roll away\nLeaving black terror\nLimitless night,\nNor God, nor man, nor place to stand\nWould be to me essential\nIf thou and thy white arms were there\nAnd the fall to doom a long way.\nStephen Crane (1871-1900)\nA Man Said to the Universe\nA man said to the universe:\n"Sir, I exist!\n"However," replied the universe,\n"The fact has not created in me\n"A sense of obligation."\nStephen Crane (1871-1900)
