love poems for her

The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand, and softer breast,
Warm breath, light whisper, tender semi-tone,
Bright eyes, accomplish'd shape, and lang'rous waist!
Faded the flower and all its budded charms,
Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes,
Faded the shape of beauty from my arms,
Faded the voice, warmth, whiteness, paradise--
Vanish'd unseasonably at shut of eve,
When the dusk holiday--or holinight
Of fragrant-curtain'd love begins to weave
The woof of darkness thick, for hid delight;

C HLORIS , when I to thee present
The cause of all my discontent;
And shew that all the wealth that can
Flow from this little world of man,
Is nought but Constancy and Love,
Why will you other objects prove?

O do not cozen your desires
With common and mechanick fires:
That picture which you see in gold,
In every Shop is to be sold,
And Diamonds of richest prize
Men only value with their eyes.

But look upon my loyal heart,
That knows to value every part:
And loves thy hidden virtue more

As a lad I never had any idea of the taste of sorrow,
But loved to go up the tallest towers.
Loved to go up the tallest towers,
To compose new verses simulating sorrow.

Now that of sorrow I have tasted my fill,
I hesitate on the verge of utterance.
I hesitate on the verge of utterance,
And would rather say,
What a nice cool autumn, with tints lovely and mellow!

——Bird of the wilderness,
——Blithesome and cumberless,
Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea!
——Emblem of happiness,
——Blest is thy dwelling-place—
O to abide in the desert with thee!

——Wild is thy lay and loud,
——Far in the downy cloud,
Love gives it energy, love gave it birth.
——Where, on thy dewy wing,
——Where art thou journeying?
Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth.

——O'er fell and fountain sheen,
——O'er moor and mountain green,
O'er the red streamer that heralds the day,

Ah, pity love where'er it grows!
See how in me it overflows
In dripping eyes and dropping nose.

So strange a thing is seldom seen:
My age is dull, my love is keen;
Above I'm grey, but elsewhere green.

Aloof, perhaps I court and prate;
But something near I would be at,
Though I'm so old I scarce know what.

Shame checks our first attempts; but then 'tis prov'd,
Sins first dislik'd, are after that belov'd.

Darling, my own dear, ownest love,
Shall I put on a dress of white,
A red, red rose in my raven hair,
And meet you at the gate to-night?

By the garden gate that is arched with elms,
With majestic elms tall,
Where night-birds their sweetest melodies croon,
And so softly their love-mates call.

Say, darling, will you greet me with a kiss,
Will you be my love as of yore?
Will you talk of the bliss of our future days,
And tell me you love me more?

And shall we walk down the garden path,

Comes the New Year; wailing the north winds blow;
In her cold, lonely grave my dead love lies;
Dead lies the stiffened earth beneath the snow,
And blinding sleet blots out the desolate skies;
I stand between the living and the dead;
Hateful to me is life, hateful is death;
Her life was sad, and on that narrow bed
She will not turn, nor wake with human breath.
I kneel between the evil and the good;
The struggle o'er, this one sweet faith have I—
Though life and death be dimly understood,

We are all liars, because
the truth of yesterday becomes a lie tomorrow,
whereas letters are fixed,
and we live by the letter of truth.

The love I feel for my friend, this year,
is different from the love I felt last year.
If it were not so, it would be a lie.
Yet we reiterate love! love!

as if it were coin with a fixed value
instead of a flower that dies, and opens a different bud.

O my honey, take me back,
O my dahlin', I'll be true.
I am mo'nin' all day long,
O my honey, I love you.

I have loved you in joy and pain,
In de sunshine and de rain,
O my honey, heah me do,
O my dahlin', I love you.