What is the most romantic poem that you know?
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Jude (
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October 19th, 2009
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Winnowing them all down to one most romantic would be far too hard for me. I might be able to give you a dozen romantic poems without venturing to call them the dozen most romantic poems I know. Would that do for an answer?
There once was a lady from Nantucket….
wait, that’s a limerick…
@Jeruba pick a couple, maybe. :) A few of your favorites.
I love The Stone by Willam Wilfred Gibson. Did a project on it back in high school.
And who doesn’t love To His Coy Mistress by Andrew Marvell?
Plus most of John Donne’s work.
Dreams
by: Edgar Allen Poe
Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream!
My spirit not awak’ning till the beam
Of an Eternity should bring the morrow.
Yes! tho’ that long dream were of hopeless sorrow,
‘T were better than the cold reality
Of waking life, to him whose heart must be,
And hath been still, upon the lovely earth,
A chaos of deep passion, from his birth.
But should it be – that dream eternally
Continuing – as dreams have been to me
In my young boyhood – should it thus be giv’n,
‘T were folly still to hope for higher Heav’n.
For I have revell’d, when the sun was bright
I’ the summer sky, in dreams of living light
And loveliness, – have left my very heart
In climes of mine imagining, apart
From mine own home, with beings that have been
Of mine own thought – what more could I have seen?
‘T was once – and only once – and the wild hour
From my remembrance shall not pass – some pow’r
Or spell had bound me – ‘t was the chilly wind
Cam o’er me in the night, and left behind
Its image on my spirit – or the moon
Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon
Too coldly – or the stars – howe’er it was,
That dream was as that night-wind – let it pass.
I have been happy, tho’ [but] in a dream.
I have been happy – and I love the theme:
Dreams! in their vivid coloring of life,
As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife
Of semblance with reality which brings
To the delirious eye, more lovely things
Of Paradise and Love – and all our own!
Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known.
“The Indian Serenade,” by Percy Bysshe Shelley [ link ]
“To Helen,” by Edgar Allan Poe [ link ]
“A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning,” by John Donne [ link ]
“She Dwelt Among the Untrodden Ways,” by William Wordsworth [ link ]
These are just a start. I do think the Shelley poem would come high on my list if I were ranking them.
I must add: “Entry April 28,” the first poem in Walter Benton’s This Is My Beloved. Go here to Amazon and search on the word “legislated,” or just “look inside” and page through to the first poem.
Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love –
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her high-born kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me –
Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud one night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we –
Of many far wiser than we –
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling -my darling -my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea –
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
All wonderful. Thank-you so much!
@BBSDTfamily I fell in love with him when I read a Tell-tale Heart. (:
Huh. Annabel Lee is one of my favorite poems of all time, but I’ve always seen it as obsessive, creepy and mentally unbalanced, rather than romantic…
I just posted it on another recent poetry question around here, but I’m awfully fond of this e.e. cummings poem.
Roses are red
Pickles are green
I like your legs
And whats between
All Because of You by Kate Reneigh Woodruff
I awake each day with a smile
And greet it with a laugh;
The world is a treasure to me
Because of you.
Every time I think of something sad,
I replace the thought- with you!
My mind is instantly changed
And my heart is filled with gladness.
Every breath I take is meant for you,
I live this life surrounded in joy
And I bathe in the promise of your love,
My soul belongs to you.
Each time I see something beautiful
I want to take it and bring it to you;
My life has so much meaning now
All because of you.
Sonnet 17
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
in which there is no I or you
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand
so intimate that when you fall asleep it is my eyes that close
Pablo Neruda
I do my thing and you do your thing.
I am not in this world to live up to your expectations,
And you are not in this world to live up to mine.
You are you, and I am I, and if by chance we find each other, it’s beautiful.
The weight of the world
is love.
Under the burden
of solitude,
under the burden
of dissatisfaction
the weight,
the weight we carry
is love.
Who can deny?
In dreams
it touches
the body,
in thought
constructs
a miracle,
in imagination
anguishes
till born
in human—
looks out of the heart
burning with purity—
for the burden of life
is love,
but we carry the weight
wearily,
and so must rest
in the arms of love
at last,
must rest in the arms
of love.
No rest
without love,
no sleep
without dreams
of love—
be mad or chill
obsessed with angels
or machines,
the final wish
is love
—cannot be bitter,
cannot deny,
cannot withhold
if denied:
the weight is too heavy
—must give
for no return
as thought
is given
in solitude
in all the excellence
of its excess.
The warm bodies
shine together
in the darkness,
the hand moves
to the center
of the flesh,
the skin trembles
in happiness
and the soul comes
joyful to the eye—
yes, yes,
that’s what
I wanted,
I always wanted,
I always wanted,
to return
to the body
where I was born.
Song, by Allen Ginsberg
I LOVE YOU
I LOVE YOU
I LOVE YOU ALMIGHTY!
I wish your pyjamas were next to my nighty!!
I have several favorites but I think this is my most favorite:
When, In Disgrace With Fortune and Men’s Eyes
by William Shakespeare (1564–1616)
When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featur’d like him, like him with friends possess’d,
Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate;
For thy sweet love remember’d such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
“The Square Root of Three” by David Feinberg is mine amdn my boyfriend’s favorite love-poem. It sums us up so perfectly <3 – LB
I’m sure that I will always be
A lonely number like root three
The three is all that’s good and right,
Why must my three keep out of sight
Beneath the vicious square root sign,
I wish instead I were a nine
For nine could thwart this evil trick,
with just some quick arithmetic
I know I’ll never see the sun, as 1.7321
Such is my reality, a sad irrationality
When hark! What is this I see,
Another square root of a three
As quietly co-waltzing by,
Together now we multiply
To form a number we prefer,
Rejoicing as an integer
We break free from our mortal bonds
With the wave of magic wands
Our square root signs become unglued
Your love for me has been renewed
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