This page is specially prepared for purity poems. You can reach newest and popular purity poems from this page. You can vote and comment on the purity poems you read.
I Won My Love
Looking at the bright side of her life
There was unending blossomic love
She's not alone anymore not lovelorned
She found every creature is teaching her
He was our leader and our guide;
He was our saviour and our star.
We walked in friendship by his side,
Yet set him where our heroes are.
My wife is beautiful
Beautiful not in appearance,
Appearance can be beautify,
Beautify with surgery.
Sweet are thy strains, celestial Bard;
And oft, in childhood's years,
I've read them o'er and o'er again,
With floods of silent tears.
.life Is A Dance In The Rain
It's raining, it's quiet, only i can hear the rain,
Freshness of air is invading my breath,
The echo of drops falling, the purity of the sky,
It's giving me peace and relieves my pain.
Endymion: Book Iv
Muse of my native land! loftiest Muse!
O first-born on the mountains! by the hues
Of heaven on the spiritual air begot:
Long didst thou sit alone in northern grot,
A Hidden Life
Proudly the youth, sudden with manhood crowned,
Went walking by his horses, the first time,
That morning, to the plough. No soldier gay
Feels at his side the throb of the gold hilt
Heaven is a place, also a state,
It doth all things excel,
No man can fully it relate,
Nor of its glory tell.
A Masque Presented At Ludlow Castle, 1634, Before
The Earl Of Bridgewater, Then President Of Wales.
To my friend, Ralph Waldo Emerson.
He who could beard the lion in his lair,
Oh you who are shy of the popular eye,
(Though most of us seek to survive it)
Just think of the goldfish who wanted to die
Because she could never be private.
Ah, yes; why not? Is one more adventitious born
Than others-shekels richer, honors fuller, and all that-
That he can pass his fellows by with lofty scorn,
Nor even show this slight regard-the lifting of the hat?
Welcome dear feast of Lent: who loves not thee,
He loves not Temperance, or Authority,
But is compos'd of passion.
The Scriptures bid us fast; the Church says, now:
While to the clarion blown by Marlowe's breath
Tall Tragedy tramped by in hues of death,
And Shakespeare yet was tuning string by string,
With English hawthorn crowned, in that glad spring
John Le Gay Brereton
On Seeing A Pupil Of Kung-sun Dance The Chien-ch`i
On the nineteenth day of the tenth month of the second year of Ta-li (15 November 767), in the residence of
Yuan Ch`ih, Lieutenant-Governor of K`uei-chou, I saw Li Shih-er-niang of Lin-ying dance the chien-ch`i.
Impressed by the brilliance and thrust of her style, I asked her whom she had studied under. ``I am a pupil of
Kung-sun'', was the reply.
Death, as a king rampant and stout
The world he dare engage;
He conquers all, yea, and doth rout
The great, strong, wise, and sage.
Thrasymedes And Eunoe
Who will away to Athens with me? Who
Loves choral songs and maidens crown'd with flowers,
Unenvious? mount the pinnace; hoist the sail.
I promise ye, as many as are here,
Walter Savage Landor
The Fishing Cure
There's nothing that builds up a toil-weary soul
Like a day on a stream,
Back on the banks of the old fishing hole
Where a fellow can dream.
Edgar Albert Guest
Guy Of The Temple
Down the dim West slow fails the stricken sun,
And from his hot face fades the crimson flush
Veiled in death's herald-shadows sick and gray.
Silent and dark the sombre valley lies
Air And Angels
Twice or thrice had I loved thee,
Before I knew thy face or name,
So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame,
Angels affect us oft, and worship'd be;
Flat as a drum-head stretch the haggard snows;
The mighty skies are palisades of light;
But some good Triton-god had ruth, and bare
The boy's drowned body back to Grecian land,
And mermaids combed his dank and dripping hair
And smoothed his brow, and loosed his clenching hand;
Captain Craig Ii
Yet that ride had an end, as all rides have;
And the days coming after took the road
That all days take,-though never one of them
Went by but I got some good thought of it
Edwin Arlington Robinson
“O Trade! O Trade! would thou wert dead!
The Time needs heart-'tis tired of head:
We're all for love,” the violins said.
“Of what avail the rigorous tale
She's Just A Girl
Her hair flows slowly like a river on her shoulders,
And like the shine of water in a sunny day,
Her hair brights in color shades,
To my eyes delight, a scenery so great.
The New Moon
When, as the garish day is done,
Heaven burns with the descended sun,
'Tis passing sweet to mark,
Amid that flush of crimson light,
William Cullen Bryant
Oh, the poets may sing of their Lady Irenes,
And may rave in their rhymes about wonderful queens;
But I throw my poetical wings to the breeze,
And soar in a song to my Lady Louise.
Paul Laurence Dunbar
And lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before
them, till it came and stood over where the young Child was.
When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great
joy. St. Matthew ii. 9, 10.
I saw her for a moment,
Her presence haunts me yet,
In oft-recurring visions
Of grace and gladness met
The smallest flower beside my path,
In loveliness of bloom,
Some element of comfort hath
To rid my heart of gloom;
The Student Gone
So soon he fell, the world will never know
What possibilities within him lay,
What hopes irradiated his young life,
With high ambition and with ardor rife;