love poetry

Two things thou shalt not long for, if thou love a mind serene;—
A woman to thy wife, though she were a crowned queen;
And the second, borrowed money,—though the smiling lender say,
That he will not demand the debt until the Judgment Day.

I love the mossy fountain
And the primrose by its brim
Where the silty sand keeps mounting
And the weeds with wet are dim
When hot suns drys ground starker
And morn sheds pearls o' dew
Where I sat with Mary Darker
A Maiden fair and true.

Her bonny white straw bonnet
Was sweet and fair to see
While flowered ribbons danced upon it
Like the princy feathered tree
Half boots her ancles hideing
The calves swelled from their tops
Spite o' her muttered chideing
The traveller nearly stops.

Upon the noontide's perfect blue
There sleeps a perfect cloud;
The lily's faultless form is hid
Within her leafy shroud.

The cloud lets fall her silver wing
And fades the perfect blue;
The lily's form betrays a fault—
Alas, love! art thou true?

When life is quite through with
and leaves say alas,
much is to do
for the swallow, that closes
a flight in the blue;

when love's had his tears out,
perhaps shall pass
a million years
(while a bee dozes
on the poppies, the dears;

when all's done and said, and
under the grass
lies her head
by oaks and roses

You at God's altar stand, His minister,
And Paris lies about you and the Seine:
Around this Breton isle the Ocean swells,
Deep water and one love between us twain.

Wild is the wind, but still thy name is spoken;
Rough is the sea: it sweeps not o'er thy face.
Still runs my love for shelter to its dwelling,
Hither, O heart, to thine abiding place.

Swift as the waves beneath an east wind breaking
Dark as beneath a winter sky the sea,
So to my heart crowd memories awaking,
So dark, O love, my spirit without thee.

At first, I prayed for Light:
Could I but see the way,
How gladly, swiftly would I walk
To everlasting day!

And next, I prayed for Strength:
That I might tread the road
With firm, unfaltering feet, and win
The heaven's serene abode.

And then I asked for Faith:
Could I but trust my God,
I'd live enfolded in his peace,
Though foes were all abroad.

But now, I pray for Love,
Deep love to God and man;
A living love that will not fail,
However dark his plan;—

O Crown of Thorn, by Jesus worn,
Bedewed with heavenly gore;
If mine the pain be mine the gain
To wear as Jesus wore.

O Crown of thorn, by Jesus worn,
The badge divine, 'tis given;
And may it prove by Jesus' love
A Crown of life in Heaven.

O Crown of thorn, His flesh was torn,
His blood suffused for me;
The sin was mine, the grace divine,
For oh, it sets me free.

O Crown of thorn, when breaks the morn
That Christ shall come again,
Above the host that love him most
This token will be seen.

Men are brought low by blame,
So that they live with shame.
Kindness and love and praise
Are strong to heal and raise.

A STAR that I love,
The sea, and I,
Spake together across the night.
‘Have peace,’ said the star,
‘Have power,’ said the sea;
‘Yea!’ I answered, ‘and Fame's delight!’
The wind on his way
To Araby
Paused and listened and sighed and said,
‘I passed on the sands
A Pharaoh's tomb
All these did he have—and he is dead.’

—I KNOW a lovely lady who is dead,
A wreath of lilies bound her charming head,
Her corn-flower eyes were closed as if in sleep,
And on her lips lay silence gay and deep.

No more the garden where she used to walk
Is filled at dusk with laughter and with talk,
No more the swaying fireflies in their glowing
Lantern to left and right her slender going.

I know a lovely lady who is dead,
And fools say there is nothingness instead.

Nothing of all this loveliness? . . . poor dear,
Beauty is not a matter of a year.