love poems

A raven flew over the house-top,
In the gloaming that heralds the night:
Far off snarled the threat of the thunder,
And the raven he croaked in his flight.

A raven flew over the house-top,
And his shadow fell dark on my heart:
A voice, in its innermost chamber,
Said, " The angel of love must depart:

Too long you are calm in the sunshine,
And too long are the roses in bloom:
Time now for the rush of the tempest,
For the chill, and the blight, and the gloom." ...

Deserted the house is, and silent;

He said he loved me. Welladay!
I know not were he false or true.
A year ago it was, in May:
" My darling, O forget me not!
Forget not me who so love you. "
A year ago! Has he forgot?

He would come back to me, he said:
Kist me good-bye, a year ago!
Can love so soon grow cold and dead?
He begged of me a violet,
One violet, he loved me so!
" Forget me not! " Can he forget?

Only one paean grand!
One soul-inspiring story!
O Love, at thy command
Are Birth, Death, Life, and Glory:
All destinies are holden,
Dread Sovereign, in thy hand.

What is the Tale of Troy
But Helen? What the sorrow
Men suffer, or the joy,
What yesterday and morrow,
Or new delight or olden,
But Beauty and her Boy?

Time knows no other song,
And passion sings no other,
Men, gods, to thee belong,
Their sovereign and their mother;
Thou dost the weak embolden,

I

Weeping skies that would seem to deplore him
Cast shadows on stars and on suns;
Drooped flags that are shivering o'er him
To a far-rolling thunder of guns!
And great bells that rock the starred steeples
And moan to the heavens above,
But dearer than all things — a people's
Devotion and love!

II

O Northland and Southland far-sighing
Your grief, in this hour unblest,

I

Return, O Day, from out the vanished years
Where now no fires on ruined altars burn;
I give you all Love's tenderness and tears:
Return, sweet Day, return!

II

The same sweet stars are in the heavens of blue,
The same sad lessons Life hath still to learn.
I am aweary for the love of you:
Kind Day, return — return!

III

So brief the time — so rain-dark with Love's tears —

WHITE ROSEBUD .

When Love was born in Eden's bower,
The first soft blush of Eve was shed
On a white rose — her emblem-flower —
Which ever since has blossomed red!

MOTHERWORT .

Yes! tell him — tell him I am well,
Say that this cheek doth deeper glow,
Than was its wont — but do not tell,
'Tis the heart's fever makes it so!

And tell him how my lip has curled,
And named his name with idle smile;
But do not tell him for the world,
That tears were in mine eyes the while!

Crown Imperial and Turk's Cap Lilies. — Lily of the Valley.

Will you say no, dear,
When soft and low, dear,
Love pleads for love, which you only can give?
Will you then fly me?
Can you deny me?
One little " yes " would allow me to live.

Care hovers o'er me,
Clouds, wild and stormy,
Darken before me — but one smile of thine,
Through sorrow's haze, love,
Softly can raise, love,
Hope's sunny rainbow — bright and benign!

Love's sun, like that of day, may set, and set,
It hath as bright a rising in the morn.
True love has no grey hairs; his golden locks
Can never whiten with the snows of time.
Sorrow lies drear on many a youthful heart,
Like snow upon the evergreens; but love
Can gather sweetest honey by the way,
E'en from the carcass of some prostrate grief. —
We have been spoiled with blessings. Though the world
Holds nothing dearer than the hope that's fled,
God ever opens up new founts of bliss —
Spiritual Bethsaidas where the soul

1.

Ah, the symmetry how dainty
Of the limbs uprearing slender!
On the little neck, how charming
Of the lovely head the poise is!

Half alluring, half pathetic
Is the face, whereon the glances
Of a woman mingle warmly
With a child's unsullied laughter.

Were there not upon thy shoulders
Here and there, like sombre shadows,
Of the dust of earth some traces,
I should liken thee to Venus —

To the goddess Aphrodite,
Rising lovely from the ocean,
Sweetly blooming, fair and shining,