From Romeo and Juliet to Scarlett and Rhett, and from Loretta Castorini and Ronny Cammareri to Westley and Buttercup, all the world loves to love a good love story. Moonstruck lovers through the ages have been writing love poems to woo a beloved. (Or in the tragic tale of the lovelorn like Cyrano de Bergerac, writing romantic poems for someone else to woo his beloved.)
When you’re in the mood for love, we don’t want you to be without a good love poem, so we’ve gathered up a list of ten of our favorites. Maybe you have another you’d like to share in the comments?
Go on, love a little.
O my Luve is like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve is like the melody
That’s sweetly played in tune.
So fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.
— read the rest of A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns
My heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a water’d shoot;
My heart is like an apple-tree
Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit;
— read the rest of A Birthday by Christina Rossetti
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.
— read the rest of Sonnet 130 by William Shakespeare
I lose myself in the space at the base
Of your neck, the wood hollow, a place
Where rainwater collects and birds sing,
The smoothest pool for my longing.
—read the rest of 16 by Dave Malone
Wild Nights – Wild Nights!
Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be
— read the rest of Wild Nights, Wild Nights! by Emily Dickinson
Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, Lady, were no crime.
We would sit down and think which way
To walk and pass our long love’s day.
— read the rest of To His Coy Mistress by Andrew Marvell
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
— read the rest of Sonnet 116 by William Shakespeare
O you whom I often and silently come where you are that
I may be with you,
As I walk by your side or sit near, or remain in the same
room with you,
— read the rest of Oh You Whom by Walt Whitman
Remind me, would you,
to buy more of the Peach Momotaro,
with its images of waterfalls, lichen-toned
terraces, waves of mountains imprinted
— read the rest of Replenish by L.L. Barkat
to get tippy in Assam’s best garden,
to unwrap your golden Dikom buds
as I unwind my pearls and purple sari.
— read the rest of Tea, No Sympathy by Maureen Doallas
The roadside flowers, too wet for the bee,
Expend their bloom in vain.
Come over the hills and far with me,
And be my love in the rain.
— read the rest of A Line-Storm Song by Robert Frost
Here’s a bonus love poem, to make it a poet’s dozen (which uses a different kind of math than a baker’s dozen or a florist’s dozen) because no collection of love poems would be complete without a little something from Sara Teasdale.
Spend all you have for loveliness,
Buy it and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstasy
Give all you have been, or could be.
— read the rest of Barter by Sara Teasdale
Photo by Vinoth Chandar, Creative Commons License via Flickr.