love poems for her

All that 's beautiful in woman,
All we in her nature love,
All that 's good in all that 's human,
Passed this gate to courts above.

Jesus, sweet is love of Thee
Nor may nothing so sweet be;
Nought that man may think or see
Can have sweetness near Thee.

Jesus, no song may be sweeter
Nor thought in heart blissfuller,
Nought may be felt lightsomer
Than Thou, so sweet a Lover!

Jesus, Thy love was us so free
That it from Heaven brought Thee:
For love full dear Thou boughtest me,
For love Thou hung on Roode-tree.

Jesus, for us Thou hung on Rood
For love Thou gave Thy hearte blood;
Love Thee made our soule's food

If thou wert by my side, my love,
—How fast would evening fail
In green Bengala's palmy grove,
—Listening the nightingale!

If thou, my love, wert by my side,
—My babies at my knee,
How gayly would our pinnace glide
—O'er Gunga's mimic sea!

I miss thee at the dawning gray,
—When, on our deck reclined,
In careless ease my limbs I lay
—And woo the cooler wind.

I miss thee when by Gunga's stream
—My twilight steps I guide,
But most beneath the lamp's pale beam
—I miss thee from my side.

Love—what is love? A great and aching heart;
Wrung hands; and silence; and a long despair.
Life—what is life? Upon a moorland bare
To see love coming and see love depart.

“So careful of the Type she seems;”
She mends what Man so foully makes:
Searching for five minute misprints
In a forest of mistakes.

If I (in form) dictated this
You will agree, at any rate,
Some things are here which you believe
And I did not dictate.

As you were better than a friend
In more than friendship we agree—
Friendship at best may be a bond:
And Truth has made us free.

Who enters by that Door alone,
However, dubious or afraid
For that one hour is that one Mind

The wind blew out from Bergen from the dawning to the day,
There was a wreck of trees and fall of towers a score of miles away,
And drifted like a livid leaf I go before its tide,
Spewed out of house and stable, beggared of flag and bride.
The heavens are bowed about my head, shouting like seraph wars,
With rains that might put out the sun and clean the sky of stars,
Rains like the fall of ruined seas from secret worlds above,
The roaring of the rains of God none but the lonely love.
Feast in my hall, O foemen, and eat and drink and drain,

O hurry where by water among trees
The delicate-stepping stag and his lady sigh,
When they have but looked upon their images,—
O that none ever loved but you and I!

Or have you heard that sliding silver-shoed
Pale silver-proud queen-woman of the sky,
When the sun looked out of his golden hood?—
O that none ever loved but you and I!

O hurry to the ragged wood, for there
I'll hollo all those lovers out and cry—
O my share of the world, O yellow hair!
No one has ever loved but you and I.

Love laid his sleepless head
On a thorny rosy bed;
And his eyes with tears were red,
And pale his lips as the dead.

And fear and sorrow and scorn
Kept watch by his head forlorn,
Till the night was overworn,
And the world was merry with morn.

And Joy came up with the day,
And kissed Love's lips as he lay,
And the watchers ghostly and gray
Sped from his pillow away.

And his eyes as the dawn grew bright,
And his lips waxed ruddy as light:
Sorrow may reign for a night,
But day shall bring back delight.

Though I love their fragrance, their aspect,
having grown old, I can't bear the cold.
Well then: fetching the window lamp,
not the moon, I'll enjoy their inclines.

Can you love my dear lassie the hills o' wild thyme
Where I made a Ballad in true lovers rhyme
Do you love the wild Common that neer was in furrow
Where I courted you truly to wed you tomorrow.

Do ye love the win bushes my ain bonny Bessey
Where the rude scenes o' nature still keeps her ain dress
Do ye love the wild Common where first I loved thee
Then come bonny Bess and gae walking wi me.

Where the wheat-ear is building her nes[t] i' the gorse
Where the orchis is blooming over beds o' green moss