love poetry

Why, my heart, do we love her so?
(Geraldine, Geraldine!)
Why does the great sea ebb and flow? -
Why does the round world spin?
Geraldine, Geraldine,
Bid me my life renew:
What is it worth unless I win,
Love--love and you?

Why, my heart, when we speak her name
(Geraldine, Geraldine!)
Throbs the word like a flinging flame? -
Why does the Spring begin?
Geraldine, Geraldine,
Bid me indeed to be:
Open your heart, and take us in,
Love--love and me.

Farewell my darling, fare thee well,
Life hence has only dearth;
With thee it were too sweet a dream--
Too much Heaven, for earth.
Thou dost not know the depth of pain
This parting gives to me,
Nor how, as time drags weary on,
My soul will sigh for thee.

Each loved one that thou leavest here,
Some other love may wear,
Each heart will have some other heart
Its loneliness to share.
But I have nothing, darling, left--
You're all the world to me--
And only God and Heaven can know

White honeysuckle, "bond of love,"
Emblem born in Orient bowers,
Whence mythic Deities have wooed,
And told the soul's desire in flowers.
As sweet thy breath as Eden's balm,
As sweet and pure. Methinks that erst
Thy flower was of our earth a part,
Some angel hand the seed immersed
In fragrance of the lotus' heart,
And dropped it from the realm of calm.
And life of earth, and life above,
Thou bindest with they "bond of love."


* * * * *

Alone upon the housetops to the North
I turn and watch the lightning in the sky--
The glamour of thy footsteps in the North.
Come back to me, Beloved, or I die.

Below my feet the still bazar is laid--
Far, far below the weary camels lie--
The camels and the captives of thy raid.
Come back to me, Beloved, or I die!

My father's wife is old and harsh with years,
And drudge of all my father's house am I--
My bread is sorrow and my drink is tears.
Come back to me. Beloved, or I die!

Cruel Cerintus! does this fell disease,
Which racks my breast, your fickle bosom please.
Alas! I wish'd but to o'ercome the pain,
That I might live for love, and you again,
But now I scarcely shall bewail my fate,
By Death alone, I can avoid your hate.

* * * * *

He who sublime in epic numbers roll'd,
And he who struck the softer lyre of love,
By Death's unequal hand alike controul'd,
Fit comrades in Elysian regions move.

* * * * *

Julia! since far from you I've rang'd,
Our souls with fond affection glow not;
You say 'tis I, not you have chang'd,
I'd tell you why,--but yet I know not.

2.

Your polish'd brow, no cares have crost,
And Julia! we are not much older,
Since trembling first my heart I lost,
Or told my love with hope, grown bolder.

3.

Sixteen was then our utmost age,
Two years have lingering pass'd away, love!
And now new thoughts our minds engage,

These locks which fondly thus entwine,
In firmer chains our hearts confine;
Than all th' unmeaning protestations,
Which swell with nonsense, love orations.
Our love is fix'd, I think we've prov'd it,
Nor time, nor place, nor art, have mov'd it;
Then wherefore should we sigh, and whine,
With groundless jealousy repine.
With silly whims, and fancies frantic,
Merely to make our love romantic.
Why should you weep like Lydia Languish,
And fret with self-created anguish.
Or doom the lover you have chosen,

You say you love, and yet your eye
No symptom of that love conveys,
You say you love, yet know not why,
Your cheek no sign of love betrays.

2.

Ah! did that breast with ardour glow,
With me alone it joy could know,
Or feel with me the listless woe,
Which racks my heart when far from thee.

3.

Whene'er we meet my blushes rise,
And mantle through my purpled cheek,
But yet no blush to mine replies,
Nor e'en your eyes your love bespeak.

4.

The King has asked of his son so good,
"Why art thou hushed and heavy of mood?
O fair it is to ride abroad.
Thou playest not, and thou laughest not;
All thy good game is clean forgot."

"Sit thou beside me, father dear,
And the tale of my sorrow shalt thou hear.

Thou sendedst me unto a far-off land,
And gavest me into a good Earl's hand.

Now had this good Earl daughters seven,
The fairest of maidens under heaven.

One brought me my meat when I should dine,
One cut and sewed my raiment fine.