Topic: Love

If You Forget Me

I want you to know one thing.You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas,...

By Pablo Neruda
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08 December

When I Have Fears

When I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain, Before high-piled books, in charactery, Hold like rich garners the full ripen'd grain; When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may...

By John Keats
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29 November

Dialogue

Be patient, Life, when Love is at the gate, And when he enters let him be at home. Think of the roads that he has had to roam. Think of the years that he has had to wait.But if I let Love in I shall be late. Another has...

By Walter Conrad Arensberg
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23 November

Debt

What do I owe to you Who loved me deep and long? You never gave my spirits wings Nor gave my heart a song.But oh, to him I loved, Who loved me not at all, I owe the little gate That led through heaven’s wall.Sara Teasdale...

By Sara Teasdale
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22 November

To Celia

There was a strangeness on your lips, Lips that had been so sure; You still were mine but in eclipse, Beside me but obscure....

By Witter Bynner
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20 November

Ashes of Life

Love has gone and left me, and the days are all alike. Eat I must, and sleep I will—and would that night were here! But ah, to lie awake and hear the slow hours strike! Would that it were day again, with twilight near!Love has gone and left...

By Edna St. Vincent Millay
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02 November

Black Eyes

Those black eyes I once so praised Now are hard and sharp and cold; Where 's the love that through them blazed? Where 's the tenderness of old? All is gone—how utterly— From its stem the flower has dropped. Ah! how ugly Life can be After Love from it is lopped!Do we...

By William Wetmore Story
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26 October

Alas!

Since, if you stood by my side to-day, Only our hands could meet, What matter that half the weary world Lies between our feet;That I am here by the lonesome sea, You by the pleasant Rhine?— Our hearts were just as far apart If I held your hand in mine!Therefore, with...

By Phoebe Cary
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20 October