love poetry

Choose me your Valentine;
Next, let us marry:
Love to the death will pine,
If we long tarry.

Promise, and keep your vowes,
Or vow ye never:
Loves doctrine disallowes
Troth-breakers ever.

You have broke promise twice
(Deare) to undoe me;
If you prove faithlesse thrice,
None then will wooe ye.

Come now, and let us wake them: time
It is that they arise!
But gently to the window climb,
Where love with love together sleeping lies.

I heard a gently flowing river:
Methought it was the Rhine.
And at her window, with his quiver,
Stood Cupid shooting at a love of mine.

I brake three lilies from their stem,
And in at the window threw:
Sleeping or waking, cherish them;
And rise, sweet love, and let me in to you.

" How would it be, were I asleep,
And could not let you in?

‘Come my own one, come my fond one,
Come my dearest unto me.
Will you wed with a jolly sailor lad
That's just returned from sea?’

‘You are ragged, love, you are dirty, love,
And you smell so much of the tar.
So begone, you saucy sailor boy,
So begone, you Jack Tar.’

‘If I'm ragged, love, if I'm dirty, love,
If I smell so much of the tar,
I got silver in my pocket, love,
And gold in bright store.’

So when she heard these words come from him,
On her bended knees she fell.

Come, love, for now the night and day
Play with their pawns of black and white,
And what day loses in her play
Is won by the encroaching night.

The elematis grows old and clings
Grey-bearded to the roadside trees
And in the hedge the nightshade strings
Her berries in bright necklaces.

The fields are bare; the latest sheaf
Of barley, wheat and rusty rye
Is stacked long since; and every leaf
Burns like a sunset on the sky.

Come, love, for night and day, alas,
Are playing for a heavier stake

Come listen, O Love, to the voice of the dove,
Come, hearken and hear him say,
There are many To-morrows, my Love, my Love, —
There is only one To-day.

And all day long you can hear him say
This day in purple is rolled,
And the baby stars of the milky-way —
They are cradled in cradles of gold.

Now what is thy secret, serene gray dove,
Of singing so sweetly alway?
" There are many To-morrows, my Love, my Love, —
There is only one To-day. "

Come , let us make love deathless, thou and I,
Seeing that our footing on the Earth is brief —
Seeing that her multitudes sweep out to die
Mocking at all that passes our belief.
For standard of our love not theirs we take:
If we go hence to-day,
Fill the high cup that is so soon to break
With richer wine than they!

Ay, since beyond these walls no heavens there be,
Joy to revive or wasted youth repair,
I'll not bedim the lovely flame in thee,
Nor sully the sad splendor that we wear.

1. Come, Holy Spirit, Dove divine On these bap-
2. We love thy name, we love thy laws, And joyful-
tismal waters shine, And teach our hearts, in
ly embrace thy cause; We love thy cross, the
highest strain, To praise the Lamb, for sinners slain.
shame, the pain, O Lamb of God, for sinners slain.

3. We sink beneath thy mystic flood;
O bathe us in thy cleansing blood;
We die to sin, and seek a grave,
With thee, beneath the yielding wave.

4. And as we rise, with thee to live,
O let the Holy Spirit give

Come hither, you that love, and hear me sing
Of joys still growing,
Green, fresh, and lusty as the pride of spring,
And ever blowing.
Come hither, youths that blush, and dare not know
What is desire;
And old men, worse than you, that cannot blow
One spark of fire;
And with the power of my enchanting song,
Boys shall be able men, and old men young.

Come hither, you that hope, and you that cry;
Leave off complaining;
Youth, strength, and beauty, that shall never die,
Are here remaining.

Come , Celia, let's agree at last
— To love and live in quiet;
Let's tie the knot so very fast
— That time shall ne'er untie it.
Love's dearest joys they never prove,
— Who free from quarrels live;
'Tis sure a godlike part of love
— Each other to forgive.

When least I seemed concerned I took
— No pleasure, nor had rest;
And when I feigned an angry look,
— Alas! I loved you best.
Say but the same to me, you'll find
— How blest will be our fate;
Sure to be grateful, to be kind,

Of all the beauteous wares
Exposed for sale at fairs,
None will give more delight
Than those that to your sight
From distant lands we bring.
Oh, hark to what we sing!
These beauteous birds behold,
They're brought here to be sold.

And first the big one see,
SOfull of roguish glee!
With light and merry bound
He leaps upon the ground;
Then springs up on the bough.
We will not praise him now.
The merry bird behold, —
He's brought here to be sold.

And now the small one see!