15 Greatest Poems about Self-Love

We’ve all been through the most exhausting times of our lives when we forgot ourselves. From doubting and changing ourselves, there was a time that we forgot our worth.

But… Let me remind you how worthy you are.

These are the fifteen (15) greatest poems about self-love that we all need. If you need to remind yourself of your value, these poems are for you.

Forget your worries and let yourself be happy.

Enjoy reading!

I Am

I know not whence I came,
I know not whither I go;
But the fact stands clear that I am here
In this world of pleasure and woe.
And out of the mist and murk
Another truth shines plain –
It is my power each day and hour
To add to its joy or its pain.

I know that the earth exists,
It is none of my business why;
I cannot find out what it’s all about,
I would but waste time to try.
My life is a brief, brief thing,
I am here for a little space,
And while I stay I would like, if I may,
To brighten and better the place.

The trouble, I think, with us all
Is the lack of a high conceit.
If each man thought he was sent to this spot
To make it a bit more sweet,
How soon we could gladden the world,
How easily right all wrong,
If nobody shirked, and each one worked
To help his fellows along!

Cease wondering why you came –
Stop looking for faults and flaws;
Rise up to-day in your pride and say,
“I am part of the First Great Cause!
However full the world,
There is room for an earnest man.
It had need of me, or I would not be –
I am here to strengthen the plan.”

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

To Myself

From the German by Catherine Winkworth

LET nothing make thee sad or fretful,
Or too regretful;
Be still;
What God hath ordered must be right;
Then find in it thine own delight, 5
My will.

Why shouldst thou fill to-day with sorrow
About to-morrow,
My heart?
One watches all with care most true; 10
Doubt not that he will give thee too
Thy part.

Only be steadfast; never waver,
Nor seek earth’s favor,
But rest: 15
Thou knowest what God wills must be
For all his creatures, so for thee,
The best.

Paul Fleming

Let Joy Alone Be Remembered Now.

Let thy joys alone be remembered now,
Let thy sorrows go sleep awhile;
Or if thought’s dark cloud come o’er thy brow,
Let Love light it up with his smile,
For thus to meet, and thus to find,
That Time, whose touch can chill
Each flower of form, each grace of mind,
Hath left thee blooming still,
Oh, joy alone should be thought of now,
Let our sorrows go sleep awhile;
Or, should thought’s dark cloud come o’er thy brow,
Let Love light it up with his smile.

When the flowers of life’s sweet garden fade,
If but one bright leaf remain,
Of the many that once its glory made,
It is not for us to complain.
But thus to meet and thus to wake
In all Love’s early bliss;
Oh, Time all other gifts may take,
So he but leaves us this!
Then let joy alone be remembered now,
Let our sorrows go sleep awhile;
Or if thought’s dark cloud come o’er the brow,
Let Love light it up with his smile!

Thomas Moore

Let Me Enjoy

Let me enjoy the earth no less
Because the all-enacting Might
That fashioned forth its loveliness
Had other aims than my delight.

About my path there flits a Fair,
Who throws me not a word or sign;
I’ll charm me with her ignoring air,
And laud the lips not meant for mine.

From manuscripts of moving song
Inspired by scenes and dreams unknown
I’ll pour out raptures that belong
To others, as they were my own.

And some day hence, towards Paradise,
And all its blest – if such should be –
I will lift glad, afar-off eyes,
Though it contain no place for me.

Thomas Hardy

I Will Arise.

Weary and weak, – accept my weariness;
Weary and weak and downcast in my soul,
With hope growing less and less,
And with the goal
Distant and dim, – accept my sore distress.
I thought to reach the goal so long ago,
At outset of the race I dreamed of rest,
Not knowing what now I know
Of breathless haste,
Of long-drawn straining effort across the waste.

One only thing I knew, Thy love of me;
One only thing I know, Thy sacred same
Love of me full and free,
A craving flame
Of selfless love of me which burns in Thee.
How can I think of thee, and yet grow chill;
Of Thee, and yet grow cold and nigh to death?
Re-energize my will,
Rebuild my faith;
I will arise and run, Thou giving me breath.

I will arise, repenting and in pain;
I will arise, and smite upon my breast
And turn to Thee again;
Thou choosest best,
Lead me along the road Thou makest plain.
Lead me a little way, and carry me
A little way, and listen to my sighs,
And store my tears with Thee,
And deign replies
To feeble prayers; – O Lord, I will arise.

Christina Georgina Rossetti

I Will Be Worthy Of It.

I may not reach the heights I seek,
My untried strength may fail me,
Or, half-way up the mountain peak,
Fierce tempests may assail me.
But though that place I never gain,
Herein lies comfort for my pain –
I will be worthy of it.

I may not triumph in success,
Despite my earnest labor;
I may not grasp results that bless
The efforts of my neighbor;
But though my goal I never see,
This thought shall always dwell with me –
I will be worthy of it.

The golden glory of Love’s light
May never fall on my way;
My path may always lead through night,
Like some deserted by-way;
But though life’s dearest joy I miss
There lies a nameless strength in this –
I will be worthy of it.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox


If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream, and not make dreams your master;
If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings, nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And, which is more, you’ll be a Man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling

My own heart

My own heart let me have more pity on; let
Me live to my sad self hereafter kind,
Charitable; not live this tormented mind
With this tormented mind tormenting yet.
I cast for comfort I can no more get
By groping round my comfortless, than blind
Eyes in their dark can day or thirst can find
Thirst’s all-in-all in all a world of wet.

Soul, self; come, poor Jackself, I do advise
You, jaded, let be; call off thoughts awhile
Elsewhere; leave comfort root-room; let joy size
At God knows when to God knows what; whose smile
‘s not wrung, see you; unforeseen times rather – as skies
Betweenpie mountains – lights a lovely mile.

Gerard Manley Hopkins


There is a garden, grey
With mists of autumntide;
Under the giant boughs,
Stretched green on every side,

Along the lonely paths,
A little child like me,
With face, with hands, like mine,
Plays ever silently;

On, on, quite silently,
When I am there alone,
Turns not his head; lifts not his eyes;
Heeds not as he plays on.

After the birds are flown
From singing in the trees,
When all is grey, all silent,
Voices, and winds, and bees;

And I am there alone:
Forlornly, silently,
Plays in the evening garden
Myself with me.

Walter De La Mare

Fate And I

Wise men tell me thou, O Fate,
Art invincible and great.

Well, I own thy prowess; still
Dare I flout thee with my will

Thou canst shatter in a span
All the earthly pride of man.

Outward things thou canst control;
But stand back – I rule my soul!

Death? ‘Tis such a little thing –
Scarcely worth the mentioning.

What has death to do with me,
Save to set my spirit free?

Something in me dwells, O Fate,
That can rise and dominate

Loss, and sorrow, and disaster, –
How, then, Fate, art thou my master?

In the great primeval morn
My immortal will was born,

Part of that stupendous Cause
Which conceived the Solar Laws,

Lit the suns and filled the seas,
Royalest of pedigrees.

That great Cause was Love, the Source
Who most loves has most of Force.

He who harbours Hate one hour
Saps the soul of Peace and Power.

He who will not hate his foe
Need not dread life’s hardest blow.

In the realm of brotherhood
Wishing no man aught but good,

Naught but good can come to me –
This is Love’s supreme decree.

Since I bar my door to Hate,
What have I to fear, O Fate?

Since I fear not – Fate I vow,
I the ruler am, not thou!

Ella Wheeler Wilcox


I had no cause to be awake,
My best was gone to sleep,
And morn a new politeness took,
And failed to wake them up,

But called the others clear,
And passed their curtains by.
Sweet morning, when I over-sleep,
Knock, recollect, for me!

I looked at sunrise once,
And then I looked at them,
And wishfulness in me arose
For circumstance the same.

‘T was such an ample peace,
It could not hold a sigh, —
‘T was Sabbath with the bells divorced,
‘T was sunset all the day.

So choosing but a gown
And taking but a prayer,
The only raiment I should need,
I struggled, and was there.

Emily Elizabeth Dickin

Forgive And Forget.

I’ll tell you the sweetest thing, dear heart,
I’ll tell you the sweetest thing –
‘Tis saying to one that we love: “Forgive
The careless words and the sting;
Forgive and forget, and be friends once more,
For the world is an empty place
Without the light of your warm, true eyes,
And the smile of your tender face.”

O the kissing and making up again,
And the tender whispering!
I’ll tell you the sweetest thing, dear heart,
I’ll tell you the sweetest thing.

I’ll tell you the saddest thing, dear heart,
I’ll tell you the saddest thing:
‘Tis coming to one that we love full well,
Some tender message to bring.
And loitering, loitering, by the way –
Held back by a foolish pride –
Till it’s all too late to say “Forgive!”
When at length we reach her side.

For the ears are heavy and cannot hear,
And the chill lips cannot move
To whisper “Peace,” though our hearts may break
With longing, and pain, and love,

O this coming too late with our tenderness!
O the passionate tears that spring!
I’ll tell you the saddest thing, dear heart,
I’ll tell you the saddest thing!

Then let us make haste to be friends again,
Make haste to fold to our breast
The one we have hurt by word and deed,
Though we loved that one the best.
“Forgive and forget! Forgive and forget!”
O warm in the tear-wet eyes
Is the glow and the gleam of a golden light
From the shores of Paradise.

O the kissing and making up again,
And the tender whispering!
I’ll tell you the sweetest thing, dear heart,
I’ll tell you the sweetest thing.

Jean Blewett

Keep Tryin’.

When you’re feelin’ blue as ink
An’ your spirits ‘gin to sink,
Don’t be weak an’ take a drink
Keep Tryin’.

There are times when all of us
Get riled up and start a muss,
But there ain’t no use to cuss,
Keep Tryin’.

When things seem to go awry,
And the sun deserts your sky,
Don’t sit down somewhere and cry,
Keep Tryin’.

Everybody honors grit,
Men who never whine a bit–
Men who tell the world, “I’m IT”
Keep Tryin’.

Get a hustle on you NOW,
Make a great, big solemn vow
That you’ll win out anyhow,
Keep Tryin’.

All the world’s a battlefield
Where the true man is revealed,
But the ones who never yield
Keep Tryin’.

Edwin C. Ranck

Oh You Are Coming

Oh you are coming, coming, coming,
How will hungry Time put by the hours till then?,
But why does it anger my heart to long so
For one man out of the world of men?

Oh I would live in myself only
And build my life lightly and still as a dream,
Are not my thoughts clearer than your thoughts
And colored like stones in a running stream?

Now the slow moon brightens in heaven,
The stars are ready, the night is here,
Oh why must I lose myself to love you,
My dear?

Sara Teasdale

Of Such As I Have.

Love me for what I am, Love. Not for sake
Of some imagined thing which I might be,
Some brightness or some goodness not in me,
Born of your hope, as dawn to eyes that wake
Imagined morns before the morning break.
If I, to please you (whom I fain would please),
Reset myself like new key to old tune,
Chained thought, remodelled action, very soon
My hand would slip from yours, and by degrees
The loving, faulty friend, so close to-day,
Would vanish, and another take her place,–
A stranger with a stranger’s scrutinies,
A new regard, an unfamiliar face.
Love me for what I am, then, if you may;
But, if you cannot,–love me either way.

Susan Coolidge (Sarah Chauncey Woolsey)

How was it? I hope these poems help you to feel better by any means.

You’re worthy. You’re worth every amount of happiness in this world. Always remind yourself that. 🙂


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