love poems for her

THE YOUNG GIRL

Even as a child that weeps,
Lulled by the love it keeps,
My grief lies back and sleeps.

Yes, it is Love bears up
My soul on his spread wings,
Which the days would else chafe out
With their infinite harassings.
To quicken it, he brings
The inward look and mild
That thy face wears, my child.

As in a gilded room
Shines 'mid the braveries

Why forms discuss, if that the soul is fled?
Is the communion in the wine and bread;
Or in the loving hearts, that would draw near
A dying Savior's last command to hear?
Ah, still have met again that little band,
And in their midst the Savior still doth stand:
Where Love doth break the bread and pour the wine,
And they are one in fellowship divine.
How few this fellowship of love profess!
How few a dying Savior's name confess!
For what are rites and forms? an empty show,
If we their meaning, life, have ceased to know.

I love the light, when first its beams
Steal o'er the earth and sky;
And gently wake the slumbering world,
And bid the shadows fly.

I love the light of noon-day sun,
Its full, effulgent ray;
That floods the earth, and sea, and sky,
And brings the perfect day.

I love the light of sunset hour,
Which lingers in the west;
Which soothes the weary heart and mind,
And gives the laborer rest.

I love the moon's soft, silvery light,
The light of stars, that keep
Their watches o'er a weary world,

Far off I see, like a dim cloud, the hills,
Which, in my youth, I climbed with daring feet;
Whose memory still my mind with grandeur fills,
And pleasant thoughts of love and friendship sweet.
But nearer do the humble hill-tops rise,
On which my childhood loved to sit and stray;
Gazing on pastures wide, on sea and skies,
Lit by the sun's bright beams, or moon's soft ray.
And many a merry voice and sunny face
Of early playmates round my happy home
Come back to me, as the green paths I trace,

Awake, he loved their voices,
And wove them into his rhyme;
And the music of their laughter
Was with him all the time.
Though he knew the tongues of nations,
And their meanings all were dear,
The prattle and lisp of a little child
Was the sweetest for him to hear.

In the heart of June, love,
You and I together,
On from dawn till noon, love,
Laughing with the weather;
Blending both our souls, love,
In the selfsame tune,
Drinking all life holds, love,
In the heart of June.

In the heart of June, love,
With its golden weather,
Underneath the moon, love,
You and I together.
Ah! how sweet to seem, love,
Drugged and half aswoon
With this luscious dream, love,
In the heart of June.

Truth, be more precious to me than the eyes
Of happy love; burn hotter in my throat
Than passion; and possess me like my pride;
More sweet than freedom; more desired than joy;
More sacred than the pleasing of a friend.

True friendship unfeignid
Doth rest unrestrainid,
No terror can tame it:
Not gaining, nor losing,
Nor gallant gay glosing,
Can ever reclaim it.
In pain, and in pleasure,
The most truest treasure
That may be desirid,
Is loyal love deemid,
Of wisdom esteemid
And chiefly requirid.

True-blue the salmon—from his sally
Back to the redds he'll roam.
When weary of the towns' stale tally
Lovely to look to home.

The trouble with you is
You think all I want to do
Is get you into bed
And make love with you.

And that's not true!

I was just trying to make friends.
All I wanted to do
Was get into bed
With you and make

Love with you.

Who was that little bird we saw towering upside down
This afternoon on that pine cone, on the edge of a cliff,
In the snow? Wasn't he charming? Yes, he was, now,
Now, now,
Just take it easy.