Poem Lake | The Greatest Poems of All Time

Valentine Song Dearest, let these roses In their purity, Be a present symbol Of my love for thee. Underneath the blossom Thorns are sure to grow; Take heed lest you touch them, They would pain you so! Ah! my faults like thorns are, But cannot they be Hidden '... Poet: Robert Argyle Campbell	A Valentine to My Wife Accept, dear girl, this little token, And if between the lines you seek, You'll find the love I've often spoken- The love my dying lips shall speak. Our little ones are making merry O'er am'rous ditties rhymed in jest, But in these words (though awkward-... Poet: Eugene Field	A Valentine Oh! little loveliest lady mine, What shall I send for your valentine? Summer and flowers are far away; Gloomy old Winter is king to-day; Buds will not blow, and sun will not shine: What shall I do for a valentine? I ’ve searched the gardens all... Poet: Laura Elizabeth Richards	Helen - U. Valentine She sits within the white oak hall, Hung with the trophies of the chase— Helen, a stately maid and tall, Dark-haired and pale of face; With drooping lids and eyes that brood, Sunk in the depths of some strange mood, She gazes in the fireplace... Poet: Edward A
The Spirit of the Wheat - U. Valentine Such times as windy moods do stir The foamless billows of the wheat, I glimpse the floating limbs of her In instant visions melting sweet. A milky shoulder’s dip and gleam, Or arms that clasp upon the air, An upturned face’s rosy dream,... Poet: Edward A	A New England Valentine O, SWEET little maid of a Puritan line, O, dear little maid of a Puritan town, On the morn of that saint whom they name Valentine, I am asking a boon,—and I pray do not frown; For, coy little Puritan maid of to-day, I... Poet:	Saint Valentine's Day Well dost thou, Love, thy solemn Feast to hold In vestal February; Not rather choosing out some rosy day From the rich coronet of the coming May, When all things meet to marry! O, quick, praevernal Power ... Poet:	Poems of Childhood/A Valentine Your gran'ma, in her youth, was quite As blithe a little maid as you. And, though her hair is snowy white, Her eyes still have their maiden blue, And on her checks, as fair as thine, Methinks a girlish blush... Poet: