love poetry

Let no Shepherd sing to me
The stupid praise of Constancy,
Nature bids her subjects range,
All creation's full of change.
See the varying hours display
Morning, Evening, Night, and Day,
See the circling seasons bring
Summer, Winter, Autumn, Spring.
Shall the river's current full
Idly sleep a stagnate pool,
Shall the pedant's mandate bind
The rapid wave, the fleeting wind.
Thus I sung when Chloe's eyes
Made my vanquish'd heart their prize,
Where's my passion now to range,

Thy form was fair, thine eye was bright,

Thy voice was melody;

Around thee beam'd the purest light

Of love's own sky.

Each word that trembled on thy tongue

Was sweet, was dear to me;

A spell in those soft numbers hung

That drew my soul to thee.

Thy form, thy voice, thine eyes are now

As beauteous and as fair;

But though still blooming is thy brow,

Love is not there.

And though as sweet thy voice be yet,

Thou wert lovely to my sight,
When in yonder dell I found thee
In thy radiant beauty bright,
Though a desert spread around thee;
Like the heath-bell's purple flower,
Shrinking from a dewy shower.

Thou art rich in beauty yet,
Fair as when at first I loved thee;
All the snares that could beset,
Rank and splendour, since have proved thee;
Change thy fortune as it will,
Thou art fair and faultless still.

Odi quelrusignolo

Che va di ramo in ramo

Cantado; io amo; io amo.

Tasso's Aminta


This mournful heart can dream of nought but thee,

As with slow steps among these shades I move,

And hear the nightingale from tree to tree

Sighing "I love! I love!"


This mournful heart wakes to one thought alone

That still our fatal parting will renew,

To hear that bird when Spring's last eve is gone

In early days thy fondness taught
My soul its endless love to know;
Thy image waked in every thought,
Nor fear'd my tongue to tell thee so.

In all the trusting faith of youth,
That knows no dread, that feels no care,
I deem'd thy heart was all of truth,
And I the cherish'd object there.

Alas! the vision'd bliss is gone—
Too soon those days were o'er!
This heart still loves—but loves alone—
Its joys are there no more

Yes ....though we've loved so long, so well,
Imperious duty bids us part;
But though thy breast with anguish swell,
A pang more lasting tears my heart.

My grief is dumb,....loquacious thine,
The mournful hoard I sacred keep;
Thou seekest crowds, alone I pine;
My eyes are dry, but thine can weep.

Then, whatsoe'er thy lips have vowed,
A truer sorrow sways my soul;
For shallow streams run bright and loud,
Deep waters darkly silent roll.

GIVE me more love or more disdain ;
The torrid or the frozen zone
Bring equal ease unto my pain,
The temperate affords me none :
Either extreme of love or hate,
Is sweeter than a calm estate.

Give me a storm ; if it be love,
Like Danaë in that golden shower,
I swim in pleasure ; if it prove
Disdain, that torrent will devour
My vulture-hopes ; and he's possess'd
Of heaven, that's but from hell released.
Then crown my joys or cure my pain :

Love, like cordial wine,
Pouring his soul in mine,
Bids me to sing;
Youth's bright glory snatch,
And Time's paces match
With fearless wing.

Now, while breath is bliss,
And dawn wakes me with a kiss,
Ere this rapture flee,
Ere my heart thou claim,
Sorrow, I will aim
A shaft at thee.

GAZE not on thy beauty's pride,
Tender maid, in the false tide
That from lovers' eyes doth slide.
Let thy faithful crystal show
How thy colours come and go :
Beauty takes a foil from woe.

Love, that in those smooth streams lies
Under pity's fair disguise,
Will thy melting heart surprise.

Nets of passion's finest thread,
Snaring poems, will be spread,
All to catch thy maidenhead.

Then beware ! for those that cure
Love's disease, themselves endure

You gave your love a posy and she set it on a stand,
Where it freshly bloom'd and sweetly did smell:
I gave my love a daisy and she held it in her hand,
Till it died—because she loved it so well.
You gave your love a jewel and she laid it safe apart,
Where it shone like the stars in Heav'n that dwell:
I gave my love a rosebud and she wore it on her heart,
Till it died—because she loved it so well.