love poems

When bright Roxana treads the green,
In all the pride of dress and mien,
Averse to freedom, love, and play,
The dazzling rival of the day;
None other beauty strikes mine eye,
The lilies droop, the roses die.

But when, disclaiming art, the fair
Assumes a soft engaging air;
Mild as the opening morn of May,
Familiar, friendly, free and gay,
The scene improves where'er she goes,
More sweetly smile the pink and rose.

O lovely Maid! propitious hear,
Nor deem thy shepherd insincere;
Pity a wild illusive flame,

At a little grass-hut in the valley of the river,
Where a cloud seems born from a viney wall,
You will love the bamboos new with rain,
And mountains tender in the sunset.
Cranes drift early here to rest
And autumn flowers are slow to fade. . . .
I have bidden my pupil to sweep the grassy path
For the coming of my friend.

What state more sweete, more pleasant or more hie,
Then loues delight, where hartes doe ioyntly ioye?
If vyle suspect, feare and ielosie,
With gawling grudge did not the same annoy.
Yet where this sowre, with sweete somedeale doth blende,
Loues perfection oft it doth amende.

For thirst the water sauourie makes to seeme,
And after fasting, meate is had in price:
He knowes not peace, nor can thereof esteeme,
That in the warres hath neuer broke the Ice.
Hope is reuiude, and shakes of sorrowes past,

The crow sat on the willow tree
A lifting up his wings
And glossy was his coat to see
And loud the ploughman sings
I love my love because I know
The milkmaid she loves me
And hoarsely croaked the glossy crow
Upon the willow Tree
I love my love the ploughman sung
And all the field wi' music rung.

I love my love a bonny lass
She keeps her pails so bright
And blythe she t[r]ips the dewy grass
At morning and at night
A cotton drab her morning gown
Her face was rosey health

Here we meet i' the moon light hour
Here we stand by the sleeping flower
Where dew drops hang as silent shower
On each grass blade a pearl
The moon tells endymions tale
O'er the wild rose hedge i' the grassy vale
While fondly I stand by the mossy rail
And clasp my lovely girl.

In ivy tree sung the dove
O'er the old pond gleams the calm o' love
From the cloudless moon above
Where I clasp my bonny girl
Her heart pants like a new taen bird
This white doe singled from the herd
I kiss and not a thorn leaf's stirred

Your voice, that once was wont to go before us,
Calling our steps, as Pan his flocks in Spring,
Faltered at clash of War's discordant chorus
And ceased to sing.

Though, thro' the night of turmoil and of sorrow,
No ling'ring melody has touched our ear,
Yet have we waited, knowing that the morrow
Should find you near.

The morning breaks! and from your lonely dwelling
You haste to greet us! Echoing sweet and strong,
We hear, with outstretch'd arms and bosom swelling,
The old, glad song.

Æternall love! what 'tis to love thee well,
None, but himselfe, who feeles it, none can tell.
But oh, what to be lov'd of thee as well,
None, not himselfe, who feeles it, none can tell.

M Y Love, I have no fear that thou shouldst die;
Albeit I ask no fairer life than this,
Whose numbering-clock is still thy gentle kiss,
While Time and Peace with hands enlockëd fly;
Yet care I not where in Eternity
We live and love, well knowing that there is
No backward step for those who feel the bliss
Of Faith as their most lofty yearnings high:
Love hath so purified my being's core,
Meseems I scarcely should be startled, even,
To find, some morn, that thou hadst gone before;
Since, with thy love, this knowledge too was given,

In the quiet summer twilight,
Midst the glowing crimson bars
That the fading sunlight painted,
Glimmered out two beauteous stars.

Both were bright, but one was peerless,
And I fondly named it thine;
As they seemed to love each other,
Fancy called the pale one mine.

Lovingly they shone together,
Making heaven around them bright,
While the silent hours went trooping
Through the solemn halls of night.

Till a leaden cloud came over,
Like a messenger of doom,
And concealed the brightest jewel

From Love, from angry Love's inclement reign
I pass awhile to Friendship's equal skies;
Thou, generous Maid! reliev'st my partial pain,
And eheer'st the victim of another's eyes.

'Tis thou, Melissa, thou deserv'st my care;
How can my will and reason disagree?
How can my passion live beneath despair?
How can my bosom sigh for aught but thee?

Ah! dear Melissa! pleased with thee to rove,
My soul has yet survived its dreariest time;
Ill can I bear the various clime of Love!
Love is a pleasing, but a various clime.