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These are some of my favorite poems from well known poets
THE DAISY FOLLOWS SOFT THE SUN

by: Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

THE daisy follows soft the sun,
And when his golden walk is done,
Sits shyly at his feet.
He, waking, finds the flower near.
"Wherefore, marauder, art thou here?"
"Because, sir, love is sweet!"
 
We are the flower, Thou the sun!
Forgive us, if as days decline,
We nearer steal to Thee,--
Enamoured of the parting west,
The peace, the flight, the amethyst,
Night's possibility!
              ALONE

by: Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849)

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then--in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life--was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
Emily Dickinson - "Why do I love" You, Sir?

  "Why do I love" You, Sir?
  Because --
  The Wind does not require the Grass
  To answer -- Wherefore when He pass
  She cannot keep Her place.
 
  Because He knows -- and
  Do not You --
  And We know not --
  Enough for Us
  The Wisdom it be so --
 
  The Lightning -- never asked an Eye
  Wherefore it shut -- when He was by --
  Because He knows it cannot speak --
  And reasons not contained --
  -- Of Talk --
  There be -- preferred by Daintier Folk --
 
  The Sunrise -- Sire -- compelleth Me --
  Because He's Sunrise -- and I see --
  Therefore -- Then --
  I love Thee --
LOVE SONG (from "Cyclops")

by: Euripides

ONE with eyes the fairest
Cometh from his dwelling,
Some one loves thee, rarest,
Bright beyond my telling.
In thy grace thou shinest
Like some nymph divinest,
In her caverns dewy:--
All delights pursue thee,
Soon pied flowers, sweet-breathing,
Shall thy head be wreathing.
Emily Dickinson - Is it too late to touch you, Dear? (1637)

Is it too late to touch you, Dear?
We this moment knew --
Love Marine and Love terrene --
Love celestial too --
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