love poems for her

Tell me, Love, when I rove o'er some far distant plain,
— Shall I cherish the passion that dwells in my breast?
Or will Absence subdue the keen rigours of pain,
— And the swift wing of Time bring the balsam of rest?

Shall the image of him I was born to adore ,
— Inshrin'd in my bosom my idol still prove?
Or seduced by caprice shall fine feeling no more,
— With the incense of Truth gem the altar of Love?

When I view the deep tint of the dew-dropping Rose,
— Where the bee sits enamour'd its nectar to sip;

The land of my home is flitting,
Flitting from my view;
A gale in the sails is sitting,
Toils the merry crew.
Here let my home be,
On the waters wide:
I roam with a proud heart;
Maggie's by my side;
My own love, Maggie dear,
Sitting by my side
Maggie dear, my own love,
Sitting by my side.
The wind howling o'er the billow
From the distant lea,
The storm raging'round my pillow
Brings no care to me.
Roll on ye dark waves,
O'er the troubled tide:
I heed not your anger,

Beneath the white thorn lovely May
[Three Virgins at the Break of day
Whither Young Man whither away]
Alas for wo alas for wo alas for wo
They cry & tears for ever flow
The one was clothd in flames of fire
The other clothd in [sweet desire] Iron wire
The other clothd in [sighs] & tears & sighs
Dazzling bright before my Eyes
They bore a Net of Golden twine
To hang upon the branches fine
[Pitying I wept to see the woe
That Love & Beauty undergo
To be consumd in burning fires
And in ungratified desires]

You are faithless as a Carthaginian,
To love at once Kate, Nell, Doll, Martha, Jenny, Ann.

High state and honours to others impart,
But give me your heart;
That treasure, that treasure alone
I beg for my own.
So gentle a love, so fervent a fire
My soul does inspire.
That treasure, that treasure alone
I beg for my own.

Your love let me crave,
Give me in possessing
So matchless a blessing,
That empire is all I would have.

Love's my petition,
And all my ambition;
If e'er you discover
So faithful, so faithful a lover,
So real a flame,

My country, 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of felony,
Of thee I sing —
Land where my fathers fried
Young witches and applied
Whips to the Quaker's hide
And made him spring.

My knavish country, thee,
Land where the thief is free,
Thy laws I love;
I love thy thieving bills
That tap the people's tills;
I love thy mob whose will's
All laws above.

Let Federal employees
And rings rob all they please,
The whole year long.
Let office-holders make
Their piles and judges rake

C HO W NDASH-CHÜN TO HER HUSBAND S SU-MA H SIANG-JU

You have taken our love and turned it into coins of silver.
You sell the love poems you wrote for me,
And with the price of them you buy many cups of wine,
I beg that you remain dumb,
That you write no more poems.
For the wine does us both an injury,
And the words of your heart
Have become the common speech of the Emperor's concubines.

As balmly as the breath of her you love
When deep between her breasts it comes to you.

Oh! May sits crowned with hawthorn-flower,
And is Love's month, they say;
And Love's the fruit that is ripened best
By ladies' eyes in May.

The lovely lass o' Inverness,
Nae joy nor pleasure can she see;
For e'en and morn she cries, Alas!
And ay the saut tear blin's her e'e:
Drumossie moor--Drumossie day--
A waefu' day it was to me!
For there I lost my father dear,
My father dear, and brethren three.
Their winding-sheet the bluidy clay,
Their graves are growing green to see:
And by them lies the dearest lad
That ever blest a woman's e'e!

Now wae to thee, thou cruel lord,
A bluidy man I trow thou be;
For mony a heart thou hast made sair