Love's Coming
She had looked for his coming as warriors come,
With the clash of arms and the bugle's call;
But he came instead with a stealthy tread,
Which she did not hear at all.
She had looked for his coming as warriors come,
With the clash of arms and the bugle's call;
But he came instead with a stealthy tread,
Which she did not hear at all.
I had an old book of EWW poems when I was young that had belonged to my Grandmother, who was born in 1904, given to her by my Grandfather. Reading them brings back some memories. I didn't...
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somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
This poem is the one that did it! I read this along with my class, in seventh grade, and was forever inspired by the way Cummings uses words to create this picture of love and roses. He uses...
I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.
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You will come one day in a waver of love,
Tender as dew, impetuous as rain,
The tan of the sun will be on your skin,
The purr of the breeze in your murmuring speech,
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
No one worth possessing
Can be quite possessed;
Lay that on your heart,
My young angry dear;
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I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.
Sincerely, the poem sounds more of irony, imagery, synecdoche, because it was a direct poem that straightly explained the meaning, whereas, there won't be room for literary appreciation....
The Nymph that undoes me, is fair and unkind;
No less than a wonder by Nature designed.
She's the grief of my heart, the joy of my eye;
And the cause of a flame that never can die!
This poem touched my heart so deeply I can't even explain. It has left me at a loss for words. There is no greater poem than one that will touch you so deeply that it leaves you speechless....
If thou must love me, let it be for nought
Except for love's sake only. Do not say
I love her for her smile ... her look ... her way
Of speaking gently, ... for a trick of thought
For her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes,
Brightly expressive as the twins of Loeda,
Shall find her own sweet name, that, nestling lies
Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader.