Her Eyes Are Homes Of Silent Prayers (by: Lord Alfred Tennyson (1809 - 1892)) Her eyes are homes of silent prayer, Nor other thought her mind admits But, he was dead, and there he sits, And he that brought him back is there. continue reading
His Sweetheart (by: Isabella Valancy Crawford (1850-1887)) Sylvia's lattices were dark Roses made them narrow. In the dawn there came a Spark, Armèd with an arrow: continue reading
His Wife And Baby (by: Isabella Valancy Crawford (1850-1887)) In the lone place of the leaves, Where they touch the hanging eaves, There sprang a spray of joyous song that sounded sweet and sturdy; And the baby in the bed continue reading
How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count The Ways (by: Elizabeth Barret Browning (1806 - 1861)) I love thee freely, as men strive for right; I love thee purely, as they turn from praise, I love thee with the passion put to use... continue reading
I Leave Thee for Awhile (by: Eliza Cook (1818 - 1889)) I leave thee for awhile, my love, I leave thee with a sigh; The fountain spring within my soul Is playing in mine eye... continue reading
I Will Be Here (by: Steven Curtis Chapman) If in the morning when you wake, If the future is unclear, I will be here... continue reading
Incurable (by: Dorothy Parker (1893 - 1967)) And if my heart be scarred and burned, The safer, I, for all I learned; The calmer, I, to see it true That ways of love are never new... continue reading
John Anderson, My Jo (by: Robert Burns (1759 - 1796)) John Anderson, my Jo, John, When we were first acquent, Your locks were like the raven... continue reading
