poems about love

Lord, hast Thou so loved us, and will not we
Love Thee with heart and mind and strength and soul,
Desiring Thee beyond our glorious goal,
Beyond the heaven of heavens desiring Thee?
Each saint, all saints cry out: Yea me, yea me,
Thou hast desired beyond an aureole,
Beyond Thy many Crowns, beyond the whole
Ninety and nine unwandering family.
Souls in green pastures of the watered land,
Faint pilgrim souls wayfaring thro' the sand,
Abide with Thee and in Thee are at rest:
Yet evermore, kind Lord, renew Thy quest

The mighty many-sounding English sea
Forgets to love its moon and worships thee;
The English meadows, by thy beauty won,
Dream in thy glances and forget the sun;
The English dales, and dells of deep-green gloom,
Beneath thy footing tremble into bloom;
The morning follows thee; the wondering night
Forgets its stars—for are not thine eyes bright?
The English summer wind must tune its lute,
Love, at thy voice,—or be for ever mute;—
The laughter in the branches of the pine
Was never lovely till it copied thine;

Blanch swears her Husband's lovely; when a scald
Has blear'd his eyes: Besides, his head is bald.
Next, his wilde eares, like Lethern wings full spread,
Flutter to flie, and beare away his head.

Remember kissing, haste of embrace,
The then too swimming voyage everywhere—
And so bent on return, all's still to see
And learn of: oh, the luxurious futures
We have tasted tastelessly,
Blunting the acute lips with love,
The like desire of another
To be newly baptized in the fresh flood
Of the Unknown.

Round us the flagging flies piqued dully:
Our moments given holiday to fret
On whiling wing, stupid of time
As we of who we were in this soft act
Before the liquid mirror
Of mutuality.

Love , the defier, and Time, the defied,
Wrestled for sway, being equals in pride;
Love with his arrows about him as now;
Time with the dust of the stars on his brow.

Fate, intervening, gave rightful award:
“Time shall be vassal and Love shall be lord.”
And thus at her bidding they ended their feud,
Love, the subduer, and Time, the subdued.

Now let us unto some fair Medow goe
That wee to other, our love may show
And there let us in union dwell
That none may us in good excell.

As love
that is
each day upon the twig
which may die
So springs your love
fresh up
lusty for the sun
the bird's companion—

You gave me roses, love, last night,
When the sea was blue and the skies were bright;
And the earth was aglow with a golden light
When you gave me roses, love, last night.

Lilies I lay by your side to-day,
And your face—it is colder and whiter than they;
And I linger and listen and wonder and pray,
As I bring you lilies to-day.

Adown the pretty purling stream
The little Loves may loll and dream;
And please, and prune themselves with care,
And fancy Virtue lodges there.
The soft Affections thus, and strong,
Adown life's current glide along;
And all-appeas'd and uncontroul'd,
Awhile their equal measure hold
Till sailing farther on the deep,
Or mounting Virtue's lofty steep,
The pretty system sinks away,
The little loves, and smiles decay.
Unnumber'd waves and storms we find
To raise—not to depress the mind,

He is a heart,
An acorn from the oakwood.
He is young.
A kiss for him!