First Love (by: John Clare (1793 - 1864)) Are flowers the winter's choice Is love's bed always snow She seemed to hear my silent voice Not love appeals to know. continue reading
Flight, The (by: Sara Teasdale (1884 - 1933)) Look back with longing eyes and know that I will follow, Lift me up in your love as a light wing lifts a swallow... continue reading
Flower Of Love (by: Oscar Wilde (1854 - 1900)) Sweet, I blame you not, for mine the fault was, had I not been made of common clay I had climbed the higher heights unclimbed yet, seen the fuller air, the larger day. continue reading
Gift, A (by: Amy Lowell (1874 - 1925)) See! I give myself to you, Beloved! My words are little jars For you to take and put upon a shelf. continue reading
Gift, The (by: Sara Teasdale (1884 - 1933)) All that I have are gifts of your giving If I give them again, you would find them old, And your soul would weary of always living Before the mirror my life would hold. continue reading
Good-Morrow, The (by: John Donne (1573 - 1631)) And now good-morrow to our waking souls, Which watch not one another out of fear; For love, all love of other sights controls, And makes one little room an everywhere... continue reading
Hands Of The Betrothed, The (by: D.H. Lawrence (1885 - 1930)) Her tawny eyes are onyx of thoughtlessness, Hardened they are like gems in ancient modesty... continue reading
Her Death And After (by: Thomas Hardy) 'Twas a death-bed summons, and forth I went By the way of the Western Wall, so drear On that winter night, and sought a gate-- The home, by Fate, Of one I had long held dear. continue reading
