love poetry

I love the raving winds, the murky gloom
And I love the sea
When ocean billows burst in frothy hum
And where they silent be
I love the rough and smooth of nature's voice
The quiet, and the rude
For Nature never had unpleasant voice
But sweet as Solitude

I love the tumult in the forest trees
And wood winds to hear
In nature's soul of quiet sympathies
There—ther's nought to fear
Nothing creating pain or harm
And no noises rude
The loud tongued thunder is a lovely charm
A companion in solitude—

White cloud-wonders waver and wander,
White mists rising and falling yonder
Are like chill fingers laid upon my heart;
Ever the nightingale's plaint grows fonder—
Can it be true that you and I must part?

Red, red roses hang in a cluster,
Red lips glow in the wine-cup's lustre;
Stay me, before I go, with wine and bread!
Round me an army of shadows muster
And weave a veil of darkness for my head.

Will o' the wisp before me flying,
Pale sad faces like faint flames dying—
I walk alone beside a spectral mere;

Wake up, Jacob, day is abreaking, I'm on my way;
O, wake up, Jacob, day is abreaking I'm on my way.
O! way. I want to go to heaven when I die,
Do love de Lord!
I want to go to heaven when I die,
Do love de Lord!
O! Lord

Got some friends on de oder shore,
Do love de Lord!
I want to see 'em more an' more,
Do love de Lord!
Wake up, Jacob, &c.

Fresh as the foam of torrents from the snow,
Dark, soft as footsteps in the woods below,
Complete as sunlight falling from above,
New as young vine-leaves, is our virgin love.

When loue on time and measure makes his ground,
Time that must end though loue can neuer die,
Tis loue betwixt a shadow and a sound,
A loue not in the hart but in the eie,
A loue that ebbes and flowes now vp now downe,
A mornings fauor and an euenings frowne.

Sweete lookes shew loue, yet they are but as beames,
Faire wordes seeme true, yet they are but as wind,
Eies shed their teares yet are but outward streames:
Sighes paint a sadnes in the falsest minde.
Lookes, wordes, teares, sighes, shew loue when loue they leaue,

Govind is my life; the world tastes bitter to me.
I love Rama and Rama alone; let my eyes see no other.
In Miran's palace dwell Hari's saints; Hari dwells far from intrigue with his saints.

A rann I made within my heart
To the rider, to the high king,
A rann I made to my love,
To the king of kings, ancient death.

Brighter to me than light of day
The dark of thy house, though black clay;
Sweeter to me than the music of trumpets
The quiet of thy house and its eternal silence.

I went to Ed Haley's the day it was bright
I met with a woman I loved at first sight.
I asked her some questions about her past life,
She told me she was single, but had been a wife.

In deep conversation I studied her mind,
She had come down to Brushy to wait on the blind;
The labor was hard and the wages was small,
I soon saw she did not like Horse Branch at all.

I dream of this woman, she's stolen my heart;
Sad disappointments has kept us apart.
I'm troubled and worried, I'm tired of this place,

Jesus Christ my Leman sweet,
That diedest on the bitter tree,
With all my might I thee beseech
For thy deep Wounds two and three,
That as firmly may Thy love
In to mine heart fixèd be
As was the spear in to thine Heart
When thou sufferedst death for me.
My Jesus sweet who died on Rood,
For the love of me,—
And boughtest me with Thy Blood,
Have then Mercy upon me;
And should me hinder any thing
From my love of Thee,
Should it be dear it shall be loathed;
So take it away from me.

Come, Autumn, come again with sober bloom
And shed sweet fragrance on love's fair increase
Year upon year, from the faint far perfume
Of bridal rose till this glad day of peace.
Though some who smelt the rose
Are gone, and some of those
We love and wish were here, away,
Yet Autumn, let thy spirit consecrate the day.

When April smiles, the earth's broad bosom feels
The throb of life and sap that wakes her veins,
Delights therein alone; at April's heels
Sees not the following months and all their trains;