love poems

Will it neuer better be?
Do the heavnelie fates agree
There shall be no helpe for me?
Nor these eyes shall euer see
Fruite of my desired tree?

No, thoughe fortune haue forsworne me
And faire beawtie so do scorne me,
That suche hatefull thoughtes are borne me
As with cruell cares haue torne me;
Yett hath loue not quite forlorne me.

Love? how (lord) am I deceyued?
Kindnes all amisse conceiued
Where no comfort is receiued
But to plainlie is perceiued
Will of witt and reason reaved.

All my witte hath will enwrapped
All my sence desire entrapped,
All my faith to fancy fixed,
All my joye to loue annexed
All my loue I offer thee.
Once for all yett looke one me.

Let me see that heavnely feature
Oh heavnes, what a heavnelle creature!
All the powres of heavne preserue thee.
All the powres on earthe do serue thee.
Princesse' will [and] goddesse' place
Blessed be that Angells face.

Looke oh Angell, looke vpon me
See howe I am woe begone me!
Of hoth witt and sence depriued

( OUT OF SIDI HAMMO )

Some day a white feast I will hold,
When I am white through being old,
And over my soul have built a height
Of speculation marble white,
Towering holiness, and bright prayer;
Whereunder I at last shall dare
To entertain all secretly
My desire; yea, there shall be
Goblets white as that body of thine,
And white as thy spirit shall be the wine.

My heart forgot its God for love of you,
And you forgot me, other loves to learn;
Now through a wilderness of thorn and rue
Back to my God I turn.

And just because my God forgets the past,
And in forgetting does not ask to know
Why I once left His arms for yours, at last
Back to my God I go.

Apollo in Love

or the Poet Lost in the Platonist

The stern palestra moulded well my youth,
That I might wring from the taut-corded lyre
Music and truth
To lighten souls, and move to holy ruth.

Much did I wander through the Delphic glen
Where the rapt sibyl strained to catch my song
Through field and fen
Eurotas watered, nurse of perfect men.

And through all lovely lands, where beauty fed
The eyes with joy, and left the heart secure,
Which only bled
When my sweet boy, my Hyacinth, was dead.

Neuer thinke vpon anoye,
Where the harte hath suche a Joye

But head leave akinge,
Harte is in better takinge;
Eies leave your weepinge,
Loue hath sweete thoughtes in kepinge;
Harte howlde thine owne yitt
Loue is not ouerthrowne yitt
And the heavnes them selues haue sworne
Loue shall neuer be forlorne.

See howe she chaunceth,
That all true loue advaunceth;
Sweete be that smile yitt,
That bydes me liue a-while yitt;
Euer be lyvinge
Those eyes suche comfort givinge;

Goe muse vnto the bower, whereas the mistress dwelles,
And tell her of her servaunte's loue but tell her nothing ells;
And speake but in her eare, that none maie heare but she,
That if she not the sooner helpe there is no helpe for me.
Not that I feare to speake, but it is straunge to heare
That she will neuer looke on him, that howldes her loue so deere.
Perhaps she knows it not, or if she doe, she will not,

The listless Palm-trees catch the breeze above
The pile-built huts that edge the salt Lagoon,
There is no Breeze to cool the heat of love,
No wind from land or sea, at night or noon.

Perfumed and robed I wait, my Lord, for you,
And my heart waits alert, with strained delight,
My flowers are loath to close, as though they knew
That you will come to me before the night.

In the Verandah all the lights are lit,
And softly veiled in rose to please your eyes,
Between the pillars flying foxes flit,

When first I loved, I gave my very soul
Utterly unreserved to Love's control,
But Love deceived me, wrenched my youth away
And made the gold of life for ever grey.
Long I lived lonely, yet I tried in vain
With any other Joy to stifle pain;
There is no other joy, I learned to know,
And so returned to Love, as long ago.
Yet I, this little while ere I go hence,
Love very lightly now, in self-defence.

There were Roses in the hedges, and Sunshine in the sky,
Red Lilies in the sedges, where the water rippled by,
A thousand Bulbuls singing, oh, how jubilant they were,
And a thousand flowers flinging their sweetness on the air.

But you, who sat beside me, had a shadow in your eyes,
Their sadness seemed to chide me, when I gave you scant replies;
You asked " Did I remember? " and " When had I ceased to care? "
In vain you fanned the ember, for the love flame was not there.

" And so, since you are tired of me, you ask me to forget,