love poetry

The look in your eyes
Was as soft as the underside of soap in a soap-dish ...

And I left before you could love me.

O sweet and cool is the redstart's song
As it scatters the heat;
And sweet is the whisper of winds along
A child-crowded street;
Sweet is the music when lovers rejoice,
And Song may beguile —
But sweeter still is my true love's voice
And her blossoming smile.

O soft and swift are the feet of Spring
As she dances alone;
And soft is the scent of flowers that cling
To a sheltering stone.
Light as a butterfly that dips
Through a blue abyss, —
And softer still are my true love's lips

(A Circle Dance)

Mambru went forth to battle.
Long live Love!
I listen for his coming feet.
The rose on the rosebush blossoms sweet.

He will come back by Easter.
Long live Love!
He will come back by Christmas-tide.
The rose on the bush has drooped and died.

Down the road a page is riding.
Long live Love!
" Oh, what are the tiding that you bear? "
The rose on the bush is budding fair.

Love that seeth best through tears,
Love by holy sorrow shriven,
Knows that length of living years
Could not give what Death has given.

What is fair, the seasons fret;
What is strong, like glass is shivered;
But immortal youth is set
On her brows from care delivered.

Blithe by fragrant ways she trod
Up the hill her loss leaves arid;
Where the summit touches God,
Slipped her sandals off and tarried.

Life full-blossomed into bliss,
Every hurt with love to heal it,

When it befortunes us, who love so dearly,
To hurt each other, let us haste to wring
This joy from our remorseful passioning, —
The wound is witness that we love sincerely.
So slight a weapon, word or silence merely,
Would scarce effect surprisal of a sting,
Were't not my word, thy silence, for we cling
One soul together. Life allots austerely
Unto the rose of love the thorny power
To tear the heart, but ah, love's anodyne!
The prick but proves the presence of the flower,
Our one white rose from gardens all divine.

1.

What had destroyed their edifice of love?
Nothing but love.
They thought they would live in it forever;
Forever secure.
They entrenched themselves behind it
As though it were a fort;
Prepared to withstand the sieges of the world.
And one day they saw there were great gaps in the walls, the roof was caving in, even the foundations sagged;
And they saw that the whole house was crumbling and rotting before their eyes.
For they had built only with love —

There is, they say, no sweetest rose,
There is no fairest face; for fancy grows
Its own deceiver.
But, right or wrong, what does love care?
I say, " World over, only one's all fair, "
And so believe her.

A flame — an instant, secret, mystic thing —
Burns in my soul, and shall forever burn.
The harm is done; in vain were murmuring;
For she that kindled it will never learn
Whose hand it was. She will not even turn
To me, though to her garment-hem I cling;
Nor one of all the days to be will bring
Me strength to speak to her. I can but yearn.
Albeit God made her tender and so sweet,
Love sets for naught the music of her feet.
For naught love follows her with soft command;
She hears stern duty only, night and day.

They are lovers, the winds, that sweep o'er the lea;
He, the strong breeze that lashes the sea;
She the swift wind that sighs through the trees,
Breath of the pines, whose fragrance she grieves;
He strong and salt, with passionate cry,
North Wind and South Wind, lovingly sigh.

Oh, drink thou deep of the purple wine,
And it's hey for love, for I love you so!
Oh, clasp me close, with your lips on mine,
And it's hey for love, for I love you so!
The sea lies violet, deep, and wide,
My heart beats high with the rushing tide;
Was it fancy, beloved, the seagulls cried:
" Sing loud for love, for I love him so " ?

Oh, little boat on the tossing wave,
Sing loud for love, for I love him so!
Oh, tall pine tree in the shadows grave,
Sing loud for love, for I love him so!