love poems for her

I am so happy in Jesus now!
Sin's chain is broken and I am free!
The blessed Saviour I slighted long,
Now has freely pardoned me.
The clouds that once hovered over me,
The worldly troubles and worldly fear,
No more annoy or dishearten me,
Since my blessed Lord is near.
Sins forgiven, yes, all forgiven!
Now I can tell the story
Of his grace and glory,
Hallelujah sing to my Saviour King,
I am happy in his love.
I'll sing upon my pilgrim way,
His mercy and his undying love,
Until I stand 'midst the ransomed ones,

I FEEL that I'm possess'd of nought,
Saving the free unfetter'd thought
Which from my bosom seeks to flow,
And each propitious passing hour
That suffers me in all its power
A loving fate with truth to know.

If you reward my love with love again,
My bliss, my life, my heaven I will deem you;
But if you proudly 'quite it with disdain,
My curse, my death, my hell I must esteem you.

Why weep in the darkness when flame and gold
Lie up in the west, and the hillsides glow
With the opaline light along them rolled,
From the sun that is sinking low?

The surge of the storm sweeping far away,
With its glitter of lightning linked and curled,
Now dashes its tossing and torrent spray
Beyond the cold edge of the world.

And the flowers that bent down before its blast,
Now open their eyes to the brilliant sun;
And from tears by the storm-clouds on them cast,
A glorious garment is spun.

At sunset I strolled out of the front gate
Not far from me, I spied you passing by
Such clouds of hair around your lovely face,
Its fragrance filled the very road you trod.

Love came at dawn when all the world was fair,
When crimson glories, bloom, and song were rife;
Love came at dawn when hope's wings fanned the air,
And murmured, “I am life.”

Love came at even when the day was done,
When heart and brain were tired, and slumber pressed;
Love came at eve, shut out the sinking sun,
And whispered, “I am rest.”

The upland farm, the cot upon the heath,
The fisher's hut, where sandy salt winds come—
The bleakest home is warm with beauty's breath,
To him that calls it home.

To him, no beauty like those lowing sheds,
Or gusty ash that creaks before the door,
Or glittering shells that gem the sandy beds,
Or foam that tufts the shore.

In man and Nature kindred spirits move,
And beauty is the union of the two:
The things we deem most lovely, and most love,
Are those she meets us through.

Farewell, sweet Love! yet blame you not my truth;
More fondly ne'er did mother eye her child
Than I your form: yours were my hopes of youth,
And as you shaped my thoughts I sighed or smiled.

While most were wooing wealth, or gaily swerving
To pleasure's secret haunts, and some apart
Stood strong in pride, self-conscious of deserving,
To you I gave my whole weak wishing heart.

And when I met the maid that realized
Your fair creations, and had won her kindness,
Say, but for her if aught on earth I prized!

Why sigh? I'm in love. And with whom? With a girl.
Is she pretty? Delightful, a rosebud, a pearl.
And where did you meet her? At dinner one night.
Do you hope to succeed? Well, I fancy I might;
But I don't want it known; it must be on the sly.
You have no thought of marriage? No, no, sir, not I
The girl has no money, or so I am told,
‘No money,’ forsooth; true love cares not for gold.

She says she loves not; but her limbs reveal
The darts of Love that she would fain conceal;
Her eyes deep sunk with purple rings beneath,
Her faltering footsteps and her panting breath.
Come, all ye Cupids, ply your fires in turn
Until the stubborn maid cry out—‘I burn.’