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Percy Shelley - The Indian Serenade...

Love Poems
I arise from dreams of thee
In the first sweet sleep or night,
When the winds are breathing low,
And the stars are shining bright.
I arise from dreams of thee,
And a spirit in my feet
Has led me-who knows how?--
To thy chamber-window, sweet!

The wandering airs they faint
On the dark, the silent stream,--
The champak odors fail
Like sweet thoughts in a dream;
The nightingale's complaint,
It dies upon her heart,
As I must die on thine,
O, beloved as thou art!

O, lift me from the grass!
I die, I faint, I fail!
Let thy love in kisses rain
On my lips and eyelids pale.
My cheek is cold and white, alas!
My heart beats loud and fast:
Oh! press it close to thine again,
Where it will break at last!

Love Poems

Alexander Pushkin
Ben Jonson
Carl Sandburg
Dante Alighieri
D. H. Lawrence
Edgar Allen Poe
E.E. Cummings
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Emily Dickinson
Goethe
Lord Byron
Oscar Wilde
Pablo Neruda
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Robert Browning
Robert Herrick
Robert Frost
Walter Savage Landor
William Shakespeare


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