poems about love

At eve on Monday, on a round
I heard a sound that pleased me well,
The viol's note did smoothly float,
With a babel wrought above its swell;
I fell to ponder with the wonder,
My thoughts meandered absently,
Clear did I show that far I'd go,
As my own fancy prompted me.

I went along to join the throng,
Where there was song and drink and dance,
Maidens young and bachelors
All orderly in excellence.
The maidens scanned I, one by one
With slow gaze wandering far and nigh,
My heart was ta'en, as were my e'en,

I rather love a youth and childish rime,
Than thee whose verse and head are wise through time.

Three times a day my prayer is,
To gaze my fill on Thoralis.
And three times thrice I daily pray
Not to offend that sacred may.
But all the year my suit must be
That I may please, and she love me.

In my infinity of loss
I seek to find the gain,—
The tender glance, the word of love,
The kiss divine—in vain!
No priceless gem of memory,
But ah! the pain, the pain!

Like a lilac in the spring
Is my love, my lady-love;
Purple-white, the lilacs fling
Scented blossoms from above:

So my love, my lady-love,
Throws soft glances on my heart;
Ah, my dainty lady-love,
Every glances is Cupid's dart.

Like a pansy in the spring
Is my love, my lady-love;
For her velvet eyes oft bring
Golden fancies from above:
Ah, my heart is pansy-bound
By those eyes so tender-true;
Balmy heartsease have I found,
Dainty lady-love, in you.

Like the changeful month of spring

Where every Female delights to give her maiden to her husband:
The Female searches sea & land for gratifications to the
Male Genius, who in return clothes her in gems & gold
And feeds her with the food of Eden; hence all her beauty beams.
She Creates at her will a little moony night & silence
With Spaces of sweet gardens & a tent of elegant beauty,
Closed in by a sandy desart & a night of stars shining
And a little tender moon & hovering angels on the wing;
And the Male gives a Time & Revolution to her Space

To her house
I come,
in vain, it seems,
and turn to go,
when I hear
a sound
that makes
me, too, fall silent,
just standing there,

I am to follow her. There is much grace
In women when thus bent on martyrdom.
They think that dignity of soul may come,
Perchance, with dignity of body. Base!
But I was taken by that air of cold
And statuesque sedateness, when she said
"I'm going"; lit a taper, bowed her head,
And went, as with the stride of Pallas bold.
Fleshly indifference horrible! The hands
Of Time now signal: O, she's safe from me!
Within those secret walls what do I see?
Where first she set the taper down she stands:

Lord it is my chief complaint,
That my love is weak and faint;
Yet I love Thee and adore,--
Oh! for grace to love Thee more!

I was hungry, and Thou feddest me;
Yea, Thou gavest drink to slake my thirst:
O Lord, what love gift can I offer Thee
Who hast loved me first?—

Feed My hungry brethren for My sake;
Give them drink, for love of them and Me:
Love them as I loved thee, when Bread I brake
In pure love of thee.—

Yea, Lord, I will serve them by Thy grace;
Love Thee, seek Thee, in them; wait and pray:
Yet would I love Thyself, Lord, face to face,
Heart to heart, one day.—

Let today fulfil its daily task,