To Lose Thee |
Emily Dickinson |
1890 |
Love |
To lose thee, sweeter than to gain All other hearts I knew. ‘Tis true the drought is destitute But, then, I had the dew! The Caspian has its realms of sand, Its other realm of sea. Without this sterile perquisite No Caspian could be.
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To lose thee — sweeter than to gain |
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English |
To lose thee — sweeter than to gain
All other hearts I knew.
'Tis true the drought is destitute,
But then, I had the dew!
The Caspian has its realms of sand,
Its other realm of sea.
Without the... |
To love thee Year by Year — |
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English |
To love thee Year by Year —
May less appear
Than sacrifice, and cease —
However, dear,
Forever might be short, I thought to show —
And so I pieced it, with a flower, now.
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To Lucasta |
Richard Lovelace |
1637 |
English |
IF to be absent were to be
Away from thee;
Or that, when I am gone,
You or I were alone;
Then, my Lucasta, might I crave
Pity from blustering wind or swallowing wave.
But I ’ll not sigh one blast or gale
To swell... |
To Lucasta, on Going to the Wars |
Richard Lovelace |
1637 |
English |
Tell me not, sweet, I am unkinde,
That from the nunnerie
Of thy chaste breast and quiet minde,
To warre and armes I flee.
True, a new mistresse now I chase.—
The first foe in the field;
And with a stronger faith imbrace
A sword, a... |
To M - T. by Bayard Taylor |
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English |
Though thy constant love I share,
Yet its gift is rarer;
In my youth I thought thee fair:
Thou art older and fairer!
Full of more than young delight
Now day and night are;
For the presence, then so bright,
Is closer, brighter.... |
To Madame de Sevigné |
Mathieu de Montreuil |
1640 |
English |
Playing Blind-Man’s-Buff
YOU charm when you talk, walk, or move,
Still more on this day than another:
When blinded—you ’re taken for Love;
When the bandage is off—for his mother!
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To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, |
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English |
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,
One clover, and a bee,
And revery.
The revery alone will do,
If bees are few.
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To make One's Toilette — after Death |
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To make One's Toilette — after Death
Has made the Toilette cool
Of only Taste we cared to please
Is difficult, and still —
That's easier — than Braid the Hair —
And make the Bodice gay —
When eyes... |
To make Routine a Stimulus |
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To make Routine a Stimulus
Remember it can cease —
Capacity to Terminate
Is a Specific Grace —
Of Retrospect the Arrow
That power to repair
Departed with the Torment
Become, alas, more fair... |
To Mary |
William Cowper |
1751 |
Love |
The twentieth year is well-nigh past, Since first our sky was overcast; Ah, would that this might be the last! My Mary! Thy spirits have a fainter flow, I see thee daily weaker grow-- 'Twas my distress that brought thee low,... |
To Mary |
John Clare |
1841 |
Love |
I sleep with thee, and wake with thee, And yet thou art not there; I fill my arms with thoughts of thee, And press the common air. Thy eyes are gazing upon mine When thou art out of sight; My lips are always touching thine At morning, noon, and night.... |
To Mary (Cowper) |
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English |
THE twentieth year is well-nigh past,
Since first our sky was overcast;
Ah would that this might be the last! My Mary!
Thy spirits have a... |
To Mary in Heaven |
Robert Burns |
1779 |
English |
[Written in September, 1789, on the anniversary of the day on which he heard of the death of his early love, Mary Campbell.]
THOU lingering star, with lessening ray,
That lov’st to greet the early morn,
Again thou usher’st in the day
My Mary from my soul... |
To Mary Stuart |
Pierre de Ronsard |
1544 |
English |
From the French by Louise Stuart Costello
ALL beauty, granted as a boon to earth,
That is, has been, or ever can have birth,
Compared to hers, is void, and Nature’s care
Ne’er formed a creature so divinely fair.
In spring amidst the lilies she was born,... |
To Mary: I Sleep with Thee |
John Clare |
1841 |
Love |
I sleep with thee, and wake with thee, And yet thou art not there; I fill my arms with thoughts of thee, And press the common air. Thy eyes are gazing upon mine When thou art out of sight; My lips are always touching thine At morning, noon, and night.... |
To mend each tattered Faith |
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English |
To mend each tattered Faith
There is a needle fair
Though no appearance indicate —
'Tis threaded in the Air —
And though it do not wear
As if it never Tore
'Tis very comfortable indeed
... |
To Miguel de Cervantes Saavadra |
Richard Kendall Munkittrick |
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English |
A bluebird lives in yonder tree,
Likewise a little chickadee,
In two woodpeckers’ nests—rent free!
There, where the weeping willow weeps,
A dainty housewren sweetly cheeps—
From an old oriole’s nest she peeps.
I see the English sparrow tilt... |
To Milton |
William Wordsworth |
1790 |
English |
“London, 1802”
milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour:
England hath need of thee: she is a fen
Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen,
Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower.
Have forfeited their ancient English dower
Of inward... |
To Miss Brinckerhoff |
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English |
Eliza, when the southern gale
Expands the broad majestic sail,
While Friendship breathes the parting sigh,
And sorrow glitters in each eye,
The vessel leaves the flying shores,
Receding spires and less'...
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