Poem Lake | Page 22 | The Greatest Poems of All Time

The Constant Lover Out upon it, I have loved Three whole days together! And am like to love three more, If it prove fair weather. Time shall moult away his wings Ere he shall discover In the whole wide world again Such a constant lover. But the spite on ‘t is, no... Poet: Sir John Suckling	Last Friend, whose smile has come to be Very precious unto me, Though I know I drank not first Of your love’s bright fountain-burst, Yet I grieve not for the past, So you only love me last! Other souls may find their joy In the blind love of a boy: ... Poet: Elizabeth Akers Allen	Prelude How could I love you more? I would give up Even that beauty I have loved too well That I might love you better. Alas, how poor the gifts that lovers give— I can but give you of my flesh and strength, I can but give you these few passing days And passionate... Poet: Richard Aldington	Love Not Love not, love not! ye hapless sons of clay! Hope’s gayest wreaths are made of earthly flowers— Things that are made to fade and fall away Ere they have blossom’d for a few short hours. Love not! Love not! the thing ye love may change: The rosy lip may... Poet: Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
Under the Harvest Moon Under the harvest moon, When the soft silver Drips shimmering Over garden nights, Death, the gray mocker, Comes and whispers to you As a beautiful friend Who remembers. Under the summer roses When the flagrant crimson Lurks in the dusk Of... Poet: Carl Sandburg	Farewell to Love Since there’s not help, come let us kiss and part; Nay, I am done, you get no more of me; And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free; Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows, And when we meet at any time again, Be it not... Poet: Michael Drayton	Desideria Surprised by joy—impatient as the Wind I turned to share the transport—Oh! with whom But Thee, long buried in the silent Tomb, That spot which no vicissitude can find? Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind— But how could I forget thee?—Through what power,... Poet: William Wordsworth	To a Butterfly I’ve watched you now a full half-hour, Self-poised upon that yellow flower; And, little Butterfly! indeed I know not if you sleep or feed. How motionless!—not frozen seas More motionless! and then What joy awaits you, when the breeze Hath found you out among... Poet: William Wordsworth
O Mistress Mine O Mistress mine, where are you roaming? O stay and hear! your true-love’s coming That can sing both high and low; Trip no further, pretty sweeting, Journeys end in lovers’ meeting— Every wise man’s son doth know. What is love? ‘tis not hereafter; Present... Poet: William Shakespeare	When, Dearest, I but Think of Thee When, dearest, I but think of thee, Methinks all things that lovely be Are present, and my soul delighted: For beauties that from worth arise Are like the grace of deities, Still present with us, tho’ unsighted. Thus while I sit and sigh the day With... Poet: Sir John Suckling