love poems

My chosen one — you to whom I have said,
" You and you only ever please my heart " —
I look deep in your eyes, and heal the smart
That long love-yearning hath engendered.

My hunger grows the more through being fed;
But Love, who wasteth not his perfect art
On the unworthy, with each deeper dart
Brings not the pain I thought, but joy instead,

And health from my heart all pain away.
Love is not pain but gain. Though bitter-sweet,
Less bitter 'tis than sweet, less ill than good.

Carnations and lilies are hueless
When set by the face of my fair,
And fine-woven gold is but worthless
If weighed with the wealth of her hair;
Through arches of coral passes
Her laughter that banisheth care,
And flowers spring fresh 'mongst the grasses
Wherever her feet may fare.

Sun of my earthly worship, I declare
She equals him in Heaven! He with his eye
Makes glad, makes warm, makes light the spacious sky;
She gladdens earth with beauty yet more rare.

Nature and art, earth, water, fire, and air,
The stars, the Graces, and the Gods on high
Combine in rivalry to beautify
My Lady, and to make her wondrous fair.

Thrice happy were I, had not Fate's disdain
Walled in with adamantine magnet-stone
So chaste a heart behind so fair a face!

And happiest, had I not filled every vein

If ye love me, keep my commandments.

J ESUS my Lord, in thy dear name unite,
All that my heart calls great, or good, or sweet;
Whate'er inspires with wonder or delight,
In thee, thou fairest of ten thousand, meet.

Do I not love thee? ah my conscious heart
Nor boldly dares affirm, nor can deny;
O bid these clouds of gloomy fear depart,
With one bright ray from thy propitious eye!

Do I not love thee? can I then allow,
Within my breast pretenders to thy throne?
O take my homage, at thy feet I bow!

The scarlet cheek is a most pleasing dye ,
For so much colour so much modesty ;
And if she'd innocence to give delight,
It forms a very beauteous red and white ;
More lovely than all painting can impart,
One takes the eye , but t'other gains the heart .

THE FOREGOING LINES PARAPHRASED

I.

Happy the man who, in thy sparkling eyes,
His am'rous wishes sees reflecting play;
Sees little laughing Cupids glancing rise,
And in soft-swimming languor die away.

II.

Still happier he to whom thy meanings roll
In sounds which Love, harmonious Love! inspire;
On his charm'd ear sits rapt his list'ning soul,
Till admiration form intense desire.

Who longs for music merely longs for Love.
For Love's music, and no minstrel needs
Save his own sigh to breathe upon the reeds
From heart too full, and — like the adoring dove
That cooes all day the darling nest above,
Content if hour to happy hour succeeds —
Nor morning's song, nor noon's rich silence, heeds,
Nor the old mysteries evening whispers of.

But when the voice is echoless, the hand
Long empty, then, O wedded harp and flute,
Remind us Love's eternal, not Time's toy.

If Fortune to thee treasures gave,
Each debt of mine thou'dst gladly pay,
And nothing for thyself would save
Nor deem thy bounty thrown away.

II

Cruel Eliza! would this ease
My burdens, or make me more free
When the wish only does increase
The debt of love I owe to thee?

Ah me! Take out of life the light of love —
And who would live that not deserved to die?
But while that boon is left us from above,
The soul finds heaven in one fair woman's eye.

My love's waitin',
Waitin' by the river,
Waitin' till I come along!
Wait there, child; I'm comin'.

Jay-bird tol' me,
Tol' me in the mornin',
Tol' me she'd be there tonight.
Wait there, child; I'm comin'.

Whip-po'-will tol' me,
Tol' me in the evenin',
" Down by the bend where the cat-tails grow. "
Wait there, child; I'm comin'.