poems about love

MRS. D. M. JORDAN, APRIL 29, 1895

ALL sudden she hath ceased to sing,
Hushed in eternal slumbering,
And we make moan that she is dead. —
Nay; peace! be comforted.

Between her singing and her tears
She pauses, listening — and she hears
The Song we can not hear. — And thus
She mutely pities us.

Could she speak out, we doubt not she

1. What happiness can equal mine; I've found the object of my love;
2. I am my love's, and he is mine; In me he dwells, in him I live;
My Jesus dear, my King divine, Is come to me from heaven above.
What greater treasure could I find? And could ye, heavens, a greater give?
He chose my heart for his abode, He there becomes my daily bread,
O sacred banquet, heavenly feast! O everlasting source of grace,
There on me flows his healing blood, There, with his flesh my soul is fed.
Where God the good, and man the guest, Meet and unite in sweet embrace.

What flower is my lady like?
You think the rose is my suppose;
But it doth not my fancy strike.
The gaudy rose in summer blows,
In winter it is cold and dead:
My lovely flower blooms most the hour
When days are dark, and summer fled.

My lady's like no mortal flower
That hath its birth upon this earth,
Though formed in nature's chosen hour:
Albeit indeed it had the seed
In garden bright of Paradise,
And endless bloom from thence hath come
To bless each other sense and eyes.

What did the captain say to the cook
When the ship went down the river?
“I've left my girl in Melbourne town,
Her hair was black and her eyes were brown;
And I'll love my girl for ever.”

Wey-ho! We'll love the girls forever!
What did the cook to the captain say
When the ship went down the river?
“I've left my gal in Melbourne too,
Her hair was gold and her eyes were blue;
And I'll love my gal for ever.”

Wey-ho! We'll love the gals for ever!
What did the crew at the capstan sing

What can I give my dear
Who has given his heart to me,
That I may keep his love
Safe under lock and key?

Oh, I can give him a singing voice,
And a body white and fine;
But what if he asked for an old, old dream
That once in the past was mine?

What if he came to seek for love,
Where never love might win?
What if he knocked at my empty heart
And said, " Sweet, let me in! "

Love
Is a brown man's fist
With hard knuckles
Crushing the lips,
Blackening the eyes, —
Hit me again,
Says Clorinda.

Were there lovers in the lanes of Atlantis:
Meeting lips and twining fingers
In the mild Atlantid Springtime?
How should I know
If there were lovers in the lanes of Atlantis,
When the dark sea drowned her mountains
Many years ago?

Were there poets in the paths of Atlantis:
Eager poets, seeking beauty
To adorn the women they worshipped?
How can I say
If there were poets in the paths of Atlantis?
For the waters that drowned her mountains
Washed their beauty away.

Were I as base as is the lowly plain,
And you, my Love, as high as heaven above,
Yet should the thoughts of me, your humble swain,
Ascend to heaven in honour of my love.
Were I as high as heaven above the plain,
And you, my Love, as humble and as low
As are the deepest bottoms of the main,
Wheresoe'r you were, with you my love should go.

Were you the earth, dear Love, and I the skies,
My love should shine on you like to the Sun,
And look upon you with ten thousand eyes,

Welcome, little Robin,
With your scarlet breast,
In this winter weather
Cold must be your nest.
Hopping on the carpet,
Picking up the crumbs,
Robin knows the children
Love him when he comes.

Weep not for me, Loved Woman,
Should I die;
But for yourself be weeping!

Weep not for warriors who go
Gladly to battle.
Theirs to revenge
Fallen and slain of our people;
Theirs to lay low
All our foes like them,
Death to make, singing.

Weep not for warriors,
But weep for women!
Oh, weep for all women!

Theirs to be pitied
Most of all creatures,
Whose men return not!
How shall their hearts be stayed
When we are fallen?

Weep not for me, Loved Woman,