poems about love

I have a heritage of joy
That yet I must not see:
The Father's hand that makes it mine
Is keeping it for me.

I have a certainty of love
That sets my heart at rest;
A calm assurance for to-day
That to be thus is best.

And a new song is in my mouth,
To long loved music set,—
Glory to thee for all the grace
I have not tasted yet!

Glory to thee for strength withheld,
For want and weakness known,—
The fear that sends me to thy breast
For what is most mine own.

Cross of Jesus,—blessed symbol
Of his sacrifice and death;
Voice of love, and mercy's message,
Born of his expiring breath.
Here the world may bring its sorrow,
Here the world may leave its sin;
Tribes and nations seek a refuge,
Find the door, and enter in.
Prince and beggar, man and maiden,
Find alike a common plea;
And the trumpets of salvation
Sound a welcome far and free.
Here, O Christ, thy love adoring,
I would thy salvation see;
And amid redemption's story,
Wonder thou shouldst die for me.

‘Arise, arise, you pretty maiden,
Arise, arise, it is almost day,
And come unto your bedroom window
And hear what your true love do say.’

‘Begone, begone, you'll awake my father,
My mother she can quickly hear;
Go and tell your tales unto some other
And whisper softly in their ear.’

‘I won't begone for I love no other,
You are the girl that I adore;
It's I, my dear, who love you dearly,
It's the pains of love that have brought me here.’

Then the old man heard the couple talking,

Who shall lay bare love's inmost meaning, who
Reveal the sovereign splendor on its throne,
Or utter forth in language the unknown!—
Old is all language, but all love is new.
How may I tell you of this love that to
Your bosom draws me from my very own,
And wakes me to one need, and one alone,—
O love, the need to be reborn from you!

There is no word whereby love may declare
His holy will; but in the breathless deed
Of adoration, in the primal prayer
At the belovèd breast, he tells his need

Thou knowest not what “hopeless love” may be?
How shouldst thou know, being worthy of all love?
How might thy merit ever tower above
In hopeless inaccessibility?
Free art thou as the wind that loves the sea,
The little hills and every trembling grove,
But like the wind, 'tis thine as well to rove
High heaven in calm and sure serenity.

Faint for thy breath a woodland pool lies still,
And cloistered round with leafage grows forlorn;
Rank weeds upon her marges do her ill,
Who once by thy swift couriers was borne

Once I thought to die for love,
Till I found that women prove
Traitors in their smiling.
They say men unconstant be,
But themselves love change we see,
Till new grows old, and old grows stale, and all is but beguiling.

What right have I to hold back Love so late,
When we should long have gone to rest?
But we were pelted by the storms of Fate
From where we rashly built our nest.
One there is yet who drives us not away,
But warms our hands in her's this winter day.

Like a blind child is the loving heart
In its tenderness & trust,
Like a poor blind beggar maid
That curtseys for a crust.
The simplest thing that has an eye
May lead it to its wrong
But o! it is the richest [?]
That doth to earth belong.

From my Love has come a letter, the sudden summons of my Lord.
A solitary darkened Chamber, without lamp and without candle.
Jama seized my arm and hence he bore me, then with me went no companion.
Gloom as deep as Savan's darkness, blackness as of Bhadon's nights.
Battered by four winds of heaven, ever pants my labouring breast.
Hence are we constrained to journey, here in no case can we rest.
What can we take into His presence? There is nothing in my purse.
Paltu, coming into this world, with bitter tears our eyes o'erflowed.

In time of yore, when shepherds dwelt
Upon the mountain rocks;
And simple people never felt
The pain of lovers' mocks;
But little birds would carry tales
'Twixt Susan and her sweeting;
And all the dainty nightingales
Did sing at lovers' meeting;
Then might you see what looks did pass
Where shepherds did assemble;
And where the life of true love was
When hearts could not dissemble.

Then yea and nay was thought an oath
That was not to be doubted;
And when it came to faith and troth