romantic poems

A look that passeth from thine eyes to mine,
A kiss which thine upon my lips have pressed —
May one whom knowledge of such joys hath blessed,
May she, forsooth, for other joys repine?

Estranged from friends, my life apart from thine,
My thoughts still circle in unending quest,
And evermore upon that hour they rest,
That solitary hour: — then fill my eyne.

The tear-drop dries unheeded on my cheek;
He loves, think I; though silent, loves thee still,
And why should distance keep thy love unspoken?

Jar 1. Your lips are like the red, red rose.
Jar 2. Your silken hair is like the night.
Jar 3. Your breast is whiter than the snows.
Jar 4. You are a phantom of delight.

Jar 5. I am the needle, you the pole.
Jar 6. I am the singer, you the song.
Jar 7. I am the body, you the soul.
Jar 8. Oh, love me little, love me long!

Jar 9. You are too fair for mortal speech.
Jar 10. You are the apple of my eye.
Jar 11. You are a pippin, you're a peach.
Jar 12. And I shall love you till I die.

Alone by a lonely willow
Poor Damon sighing lay.
The grass was his only pillow,
Alack, and well-a-day.

I came with my flask,
And I gave him a drink;
Had it been a whole cask
He'd have drunk it I think.

He danc'd and he sung,
And he caper'd like mad,
And swore he'd have more
If more could be had.

But Celia, with charms surrounded,
Came tripping it o'er the plain;
The shepherd afresh was wounded,
And all undone again.

He call'd her his goddess, she call'd him an ass;

My friends could give me no relief;
No balm could reach my inward grief;
Nothing could ease my tortur'd mind,
Because Lucinda was unkind.

Oft on a flow'ry bank I lay,
And weeping spent the tedious day;
As oft by silver streams I stood,
And with my tears increas'd the flood.

On cypress banks I oft engrav'd
Her name, who had my soul enslav'd,
And oft, to all the echoes round
I would repeat the pleasing sound.

To food and rest a stranger grown,
My body wasted to the bone;

Oh! silly swain, by love undone,
Was ever fair yet fair for one,
Or e'er by one for life caress'd?
When rovers range for new delight,
The change with changing we requite,
And second thoughts are always best.

Would you gain a woman's hate,
Be a constant lover:
Would you woman's love create,
Be a faithless rover.

The fond adorer they despise,
And keep him in subjection;
But he that woos with oaths and lies
Is sure to gain affection.

R ECIT .

Transform'd in female shape, as old and lame,
The god Vertumnus to Pomona came,
And while the goddess all her store display'd,
He thus address'd the heavenly maid.

A IR

Goddess lovely and divine,
Guardian of each fruitful tree,
A while thy darling joys decline,
And lend an ear to love and me.
Blooming beauties should be kind
And take the blessings while they may,
For time is swift, and love is blind,

Saw you the nymph whom I adore?
Saw you the goddess of my heart?
And can you bid me love no more?
And can you think I feel no smart?

So many charms around her shine
Who can the sweet temptation fly?
Spite of her scorn she's so divine
That I must love her though I die.

It tells, in its lonely sighs,
In its miserere wild,
Its love for a far-off ocean-home,
This exiled ocean-child.

I send it unto thee,
Type of my own full heart,
That sings and sighs for its native land,
Though doomed to dwell apart.

And when in thy listening ear
Its plaintive music rings,
Let it tell of the love for thee and thine,

To the Tune of " Sally in Our Alley "

Since singing's grown so much in vogue
With this harmonious nation,
'Tis fit we suit our epilogue
Unto your darling passion.
Then from the courtier to the cit,
As France has done before us,
Let box, let gallery and pit
All bear a bob in chorus.

We want, Alas, the voice and gift
Of charming Senesini;
Permit us, then, to make a shift
With Signor Cibberini.
What tho' his lays he cannot raise
To soft Cuzzoni's treble,