poems about love

Oh , guard our affection, nor e'er let it feel
The blight that this world o'er the warmest will steal:
While the faith of all round us is fading or past,
Let ours, ever green, keep its bloom to the last.

Far safer for Love't is to wake and to weep,
As he used in his prime, than go smiling to sleep;
For death on his slumber, cold death follows fast,
While the love that is wakeful lives on to the last.

And tho', as Time gathers his clouds o'er our head,
A shade somewhat darker o'er life they may spread,

Sing — sing — Music was given,
To brighten the gay, and kindle the loving;
Souls here, like planets in Heaven,
By harmony's laws alone are kept moving.
Beauty may boast of her eyes and her cheeks,
But Love from the lips his true archery wings;
And she, who but feathers the dart when she speaks,
At once sends it home to the heart when she sings,
Then sing — sing — Music was given,
To brighten the gay, and kindle the loving;
Souls here, like planets in Heaven,
By harmony's laws alone are kept moving.

BLEST infant of eternity!
Before the day-star learned to move,
In pomp of fire, along his grand career,
Glancing the beamy shafts of light
From his rich quiver to the farthest sphere,
Thou wert alone, oh Love!
Nestling beneath the wings of ancient Night,
Whose horrors seemed to smile in shadowing thee.
No form of beauty soothed thine eye,
As through the dim expanse it wandered wide;
No kindred spirit caught thy sigh,
As o'er the watery waste it lingering died.

Unfelt the pulse, unknown the power,

'T was in the summer time so sweet,
When hearts and flowers are both in season,
That — who, of all the world, should meet,
One early dawn, but Love and Reason!

Love told his dream of yesternight,
While Reason talked about the weather;
The morn, in sooth, was fair and bright,
And on they took their way together.

The boy in many a gambol flew,
While Reason, like a Juno, stalked,

Why does azure deck the sky?
'T is to be like thy looks of blue.
Why is red the rose's dye?
Because it is thy blushes' hue.
All that's fair, by Love's decree,
Has been made resembling thee!

Why is falling snow so white,
But to be like thy bosom fair!
Why are solar beams so bright?
That they may seem thy golden hair!
All that's bright, by Love's decree,
Has been made resembling thee!
Why are nature's beauties felt?
Oh! 't is thine in her we see!
Why has music power to melt?

The world has just begun to steal
Each hope that led me lightly on;
I felt not as I used to feel,
And life grew dark and love was gone.

No eye to mingle sorrow's tear,
No lip to mingle pleasure's breath,
No circling arms to draw me near —
'T was gloomy, and I wished for death.

But when I saw that gentle eye,
Oh! something seemed to tell me then,
That I was yet too young to die,
And hope and bliss might bloom again.

With every gentle smile that crost
Your kindling cheek, you lighted home

I DREAMT that, in the Paphian groves,
My nets by moonlight laying,
I caught a flight of wanton Loves,
Among the rose-beds playing.
Some just had left their silvery shell,
While some were full in feather;
So pretty a lot of Loves to sell,
Were never yet strung together.
Come buy my Loves,
Come buy my Loves,

WITH SOME MANUSCRIPT POEMS, ON LEAVING THE COUNTRY

When , casting many a look behind,
 I leave the friends I cherish here—
Perchance some other friends to find,
But surely finding none so dear—
Haply the little simple page,
 Which votive thus I've traced for thee,
May now and then a look engage,
 And steal one moment's thought for me.

But, oh! in pity let not those
 Whose hearts are not of gentle mould,
Let not the eye that seldom flows
 With feeling's tear, my song behold.

The world was burnished all too bright,
Too gorgeous for the aching sight;
God breathed upon it, over night
And lo! The mountains, angel-kissed
Are clothed with blue October mist
Lovely as amethyst.

The voice of my lover, breathing above my eyelids,
" I love you, love you! "
It is like woodland water making music over mosses;
It is like leaping water, high in the sun;
It is like chimes out of midnight,
Rainbows out of turbulence and gloom.
The voice of my lover, whispering against my neck,
" I love you, love you! " It is like sudden violets in hidden places,
Like golden roses, shedding velvet upon my heart;
It is like swift fire out of Heaven, blinding fire
From which my soul may never recover;