love poems

Into my heart's treasury
—I slipped a coin
That time cannot take
—Nor a thief purloin,—

Oh better than the minting
—Of a gold-crowned king
Is the safe-kept memory
—Of a lovely thing.

Into my heart's treasury
I slipped a coin
That time cannot take
Nor a thief purloin,—

Oh better than the minting
Of a gold-crowned king
Is the safe-kept memory
Of a lovely thing.

In the dim light, red and red,
the girl dances all alone.
In the dim light, shedding tears,
the girl fades, too, all alone.
In the dim light, for memory,
the dancing person, the one alone.

Inconstancy's the greatest of sins:
It neither ends well, nor begins.
All other faults we simply do;
This, 'tis the same fault, and next too.

Inconstancy no sin will prove
If we consider that we love
But the same beauty in another face,
Like the same body in another place.

In the first ruder age, when Love was wild,
Nor yet by laws reclaim'd, not reconciled
To order, nor by Reason mann'd, but flew
Full-summ'd by Nature, on the instant view
Upon the wings of Appetite, at all
The eye could fair, or sense delightful call;
Election was not yet: but as their cheap
Food from the oak, or the next acorn-heap,
As water from the nearest spring or brook,
So men their undistinguish'd females took
By chance, not choice: but soon the heavenly spark,
That in man's bosom lurk'd, broke through this dark

In Sherwood livde stout Robin Hood,
An archer great, none greater:
His bow and shafts were sure and good,
Yet Cupids were much beter.
Robin could shoot at many a hart and misse,
Cupid at first could hit a hart of his.
Hey jolly Robin, hoe jolly Robin, hey jolly Robin Hood,
Love finds out me, as well as thee, to follow me, to follow me to the green wood.

A noble thiefe was Robin Hoode,
Wise was he could deceive him;
Yet Marrian, in his bravest mood,
Could of his heart bereave him.

In Oxford city there's a wealthy fair maid,
The truth to you, love, I'm going to tell.
She was strongly courting a handsome young man,
Who always told to her he loved her well.

He loved her dearly all at a distance,
While walking down by the shady strand;
And he often told her he'd never leave her,
While walking down by the shady strand.

It's to a dance house they were invited,
And to a dance house they both did go,
Till this other young man came between them
And cruel jealousy, love, run in his mind.

In Mem'ry's fairest court a shrine is set,
Round which the fragrance of a sweet life clings, —
The essence of such rare and holy things
As Love alone can sanctify. The fret
And turmoil of the world avail not yet
To quench the sweetness; for an angel's wings
Are ever hov'ring near, and longing brings
A vision loved that makes the eyelids wet.
Dear sister, in those realms of radiant light
Where thou hast grown to know a richer lore
Than that of earth, sometimes rememb'rest thou
The hours of our companionship so bright

In hearts too young for enmity there lies the way to make men free;
When children's friendships are world wide
New ages will be glorified.
Let child love child, and strife will cease.
Disarm the hearts, for that is peace.

In hearts too young for enmity there lies the way to make men free;
When children's friendships are world wide
New ages will be glorified.
Let child love child, and strife will cease.
Disarm the hearts, for that is peace.

In faith methinks it is no right
To hate me thus for loving ye.
So fair a face, so full of spite!
Who would have thought such cruelty?
But since there is no remedy,
That by no means ye can me love,
I shall you leave and other prove.

For if I have for my good will
No reward else but cruelty,
In faith, thereof I can no skill,
Since that I loved ye honestly;
But take heed I will till I die,
Or that I love so well again,
Since women use so much to feign.

In every solemn tree the wind
Has rung a little lonesome bell,
As sweet and clear, as cool and kind
As my voice bidding you farewell.

This is an hour that gods have loved
To snatch with bare, bright hands and hold.
Mine, with a gesture, gray and gloved,
Dismiss it from me in the cold.

Closely as some dark-shuttered house
I keep my light. How should you know,
That, as you turn beneath brown boughs,
My heart is breaking in the snow?