romantic poems

1

Sweet love I see the gales of Spring
Are wanton, wooing with thy hair
The missle thrush begins to sing
The sloe tree shews its blossoms fair
The white thorn bush is shewing leaf
The path is printed down the lane
The grass is green the shower brief
Come love now let us meet again

2

O let us meet and walk and love
And through the fir dale coppice stray
And view the scaley cones above
Droop brown as dropping all the way
The moss that warms the primrose roots

Who could but love a face so fair
Yet hope to be forgiven
Need pilgrims ever more despair
When once in sight of heaven

I trace every blossom that grows in the field
To remember the likeness of love
The woodbine that streaks by the cow hovel bield
And blooms round the nest of the dove
The hedge rose that spreads all its blushes to view
Which the morn's pearly diamonds adorns
An emblem of love and a picture too true
A rose all surrounded with thorns

2

The wood-flowers were blooming above the green moss
Some under the song-thrushes nest
Morning dews did their beautiful colours emboss
But love the green moss hadn't press't

1

Just like love is mans desire
Now the thorn and then the briar
Wounds but never kills desire
Just like Love

2

On he journey's ever on
Sorrow soon as past is gone
Kisses make the world his own
Such is love

3

Just like love the wild hedge rose
Blushing in the thorns it blows
Wounds its worshipers repose
The lot of love

4

True love lies bleeding every hour
Still 'tis heavens eternal flower
Blooming by the lovers bower

1

My Love is like a pleasant thought
A first flower of the May
My Love she is a charm unbought
Young, beautiful and gay
My Love she is a dream of joy
More living than a dream
A sweetness nothing would destroy
The sunlight i' the stream
My Love is all and more than these
A pleasant thought that's born to please.

2

Than summer flowers her face more sweet
Than morning dews her eye more clear
Here hedge-rose and wild woodbines meet
In them I pay her worship here

1

O Elenor! O Elenor
As sweet as any rose
Thy cherry lip I would prefer
To any flower that blows
I long to kiss thee Elenor
That bonny cheek of thine
Thy cherry lip I do prefer
To all things but divine
Divinest flower save those above thee**
I choose thee bonny maid and love thee

2

I choose thee as a maiden fair
And sweetest of thy kind
Thy rosey cheeks thy dark brown hair

In the mountains o the West
Lives the girl I love best
With her red rose cheeks and her coal black hair
Her face is like the rose and her breast the lily fair
In the mountains o the west lives the girl I love the best
O there's nothing half so sweet as Love and fair
In the lands not made of clay
Where the sun neer sets away
But shineth through the midnight bright and fair
I love the lassie best wi' the bright auburn hair
And she liveth in the land that knoweth no decay
And the maid I love the best is for ever bright and fair.

O the world keeps running round
With contrariness to me
There's falshood in the sound
Of all I hear and see
My love she's not so pretty
As many others be
Nor talkative nor witty
Yet very dear to me.

2

In the yellow gorse I see her
But that's wi' fancys eye
For I'm longing to be wi' her
While in prison bonds I lie
Furse bushes like to gilleflowers
More yellow are than gold
I've loved her there in summer hours
With joyfulness untold.

3

My love is fair and bonny
Red flowers are in her gown
'Tis fine and bright as ony
And a comb is in her crown
A comb o' Tortoieshell
Her hair is brown and long
Its lapped up choice and well
And plaited in a thong
Her neck is white and fair
And dark brown is her hair.

2

She's like a bunch of lilies
There's a mole upon her breast
And a bed of daffodilly's
Is not more richly dresst
A sattin gown on Sunday's
The like on't ne'er were seen
And a cotton gown on Monday's

I sigh with the wind like a storm stricken tree
And could weep with the morning but find not a tear
For love is inconstant like the ebb o' the sea
And all things are false which I look on or hear
Love seeks its own bosom from falshood and lies
And lives in itself turning bitter to sweet
It dreams of a smile from its own favour'd eyes
And deceives its own heart from passions high heat.

2

I sigh with the wind and I moan with the trees
But the dew drops of tears are passions own flame