love poems

Christ, my Beloved which still doth feed
Among the flowers, having delight
Among his faithful lilies,
Doth take great care for me indeed,
And I again with all my might
Will do what so his will is.

My Love in me and I in him,
Conjoined by love, will till abide
Among the faithful lilies
Till day do break, and truth do dim
All shadows dark and cause them slide,
According as his will is.

Christ maketh to man a fair present--
His blody body with love brent.
That blisful body his lif hath lent
For love of man that sinne hath blent.
O! love, love, what hast thou ment?
Me thinketh that love to wrathe is went.

Thy loveliche hondes love hath to-rent,
And thy lithe armes well streit itent.
Thy brest is baar, thy body is bent,
For wrong hath wonne and right is shent.

Thy milde boones love hath to-drawe:
The nailes, thy feet han all to-gnawe;
The Lord of love love hath now slawe--

" We that so long have held each other dear,
Join hands, Beloved; purposing to be
One hand and life, one effort and career,
One soul and self, into Eternity. "

Can the lover share his soul,
Or the mistress show her mind;
Can the body beauty share,
Or lust satisfaction find?

Marriage is but keeping house,
Sharing food and company,
What has this to do with love
Or the body's beauty?

If love means affection, I
Love old trees, hats, coats and things,
Anything that's been with me

Can it be true, that we can meet,
As other strangers in the street;
No deep emotions quickly rise,
No hidden language in our eyes,
No sudden crimson-mantled cheek,
No thrilling word of pleasure speak?

Yes! Thine was love of yesterday;
This morning found it far away,
In search of newer conquests gone,
Leaving me desolate and lone,
In vain I sought to break the spell,
My strenuous efforts fruitless fell.

The cloud o'erspread my sunny sky,
And settled slowly like a pall,

Say, spotless plume, if Damon bade thee go,
And aid this trembling hand to trace my woe?
Ah! if his fond requests are all forgot,
My flowing tears thy ev'ry line will blot!
Can he , deceitful, act a treacherous part?
Can he , remorseless, rend the faithful heart
These oft repeated words have made his own ,
" Of all mankind, O love but me alone! "
Famed was his candour, long approved his worth;
I loved, admir'd, and gloried in the truth;
Then was the mutual sacred promise given!
Mine was sincere , and register'd in heaven .

1. By vows of love together bound, The twain, on earth, are one; One
2. As from the home of earlier years They wander, hand in hand, To
may their hearts, O Lord, be found, Till earthly cares are done.
pass along, with smiles and tears, The path of thy command.

3. With more than earthly parents' care,
Do thou their steps attend;
And with the joys or woes they share,
Thy loving kindness blend.

4. O let the memory of this hour
In future years come nigh
To bind, with sweet, attractive power,

By the rosy cliffs of Devon, on a green hill's crest,
I would build me a house as a swallow builds its nest;
I would curtain it with roses, and the wind should breathe to me
The sweetness of the roses and the saltness of the sea.

Where the Tuscan olives whiten in the hot blue day,
I would hide me from the heat in a little hut of gray,
While the singing of the husbandmen should scale my lattice green
From the golden rows of barley that the poppies blaze between.

Narrow is the street, Dear, and dingy are the walls

Pity me! my body is female,
My lowly state is hard to describe.
A boy faces door and gate,
Comes down on earth with a natural birthright,
His manly heart burns for the four seas,
Ten thousand leagues he yearns for windy dust.

A girl is born, there is no celebration,
She is not her family's prized jewel.
Grown up she is hidden in private rooms,
Veils her head, too shy to look on others.

Shedding tears she marries in another village,
Sudden like a cloudburst of rain.
With bowed head she calms her features,

Brown is my Love, but graceful;
And each renowned whiteness
Matched with thy lovely brown loseth its brightness.

Fair is my Love, but scornful:
Yet I have seen despised
Dainty white lilies, and sad flowers well prized.

Brown earth-line meets gray heaven,
And all the land looks sad;
But Love's the little leaven
That works the whole world glad.
Sigh, bitter wind; lower, frore clouds of gray:
My Love and I are living now in May!