poems about love

“Get a lovely spray of cherry blossoms when you come to me.
Get one to decorate my bedroom when you come to me.”
“What will you do with blossoms? My sword is your bedroom decoration!”
“For my bedroom decoration, blossoms from that hill!”

Youth hath its joys love what are they
Charms are not ever young
Spring is as fair but what is May
Tis but a cuckoos song
A nightingales the summer is
Altho so gay & proud
& when the swallow flies away
She leaves her in her shroud

I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind.
For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,
That I might love thee something.

Then , fare thee well, my own dear love,
This world has now for us
No greater grief, no pain above
The pain of parting thus,
Dear love!
The pain of parting thus.

Had we but known, since first we met,
Some few short hours of bliss,
We might, in numbering them, forget
The deep, deep pain of this.
Dear love!
The deep, deep pain of this.

But no, alas, we've never seen
One glimpse of pleasure's ray,
But still there came some cloud between,
And chased it all away,
Dear love!

Again I bring you violets——
by your imperious request.
Again I bring you violets,
that you may wear them at your breast.
I pray you wear them at your breast.

Again I bring you violets.
Again I wait outside your door.
Again I kiss the violets,
even as I would you once more——
you, you, and you alone, once more.

Love, will you touch the flowers once,
although with playful fingertips,
and just for once, if only once,
play that the flowers are my lips——
play that your own lips touch my lips?

Joy! Joy! Infinite joy!
Wild as the fire in the heart of a boy;
Clean as the soul of the laughing breeze;
Pure as the heart of the dryad trees!

The sky is mine, the earth is mine,
The air and the sea and all that is;
But when I shall pass I shall walk divine
In ways more starry fair than this!

I say I have lived in a joyous world;
Where every loving dream comes true;
With comfort and plenty around me curled;
Where every moment is fresh and new.

It's great!—this life on the hills of Time,—

Precious thought, my Father knoweth,
In His love I rest;
For whate'er my Father doeth
Must be always best.
Well I know the heart that planneth,
Nought but good for me;
Joy and sorrow interwoven;
Love in all I see.

Precious thought, my Father knoweth,
Careth for His child;
Bids me nestle closer to Him
When the storm beats wild.
Tho' my earthly hopes are shattered,
And the tear drops fall,
Yet He is Himself my solace,
Yea, my Friend, my all.

Oh, to trust Him then more fully,
Just to simply move

Kindle your glimmering lamp in the infinite space, O Love!
Let the dark shadows dance in the burning depths of mine eyes.
I am athirst for one glimpse of your beautiful face, O Love!
Veiled in the mystical silence of stars and the purple of skies.

Thrill me with radiant rapture, O Love! of your ravishing flute,
Folding my silence in song, and my sorrow in silver eclipse,
Shaping my heart into flower, and the flower of my heart into fruit
Meet for your orchards of light, and touch of your luminous lips.

Lo, where the bird at rest
Twitters in careless ease upon her nest!
Throughout all storm wherewith the loud tree swings
Broods in the skyflier's breast the pride of wings.

Though soft leaves interlace,
Making a hiding-place,
The sheltered life within does not forget
How strong she is, how free, by Nature's right;
Though nest and foliage fall, her refuge yet
Remains, the boundless heaven's unpillared height!

So with the bridegroom in my soul to-day,
Rejoicing, free, a lover's mask I play.

Happy , art thou, darling insect,
Who, upon the trees' tall branches,
By a modest draught inspired,
Singing, like a monarch livest!
Thou possessest as thy portion
All that on the plains thou seëst,
All that by the hours is brought thee;
'Mongst the husbandmen thou livest,
As a friend, uninjured by them,
Thou whom mortals love to honour,
Herald sweet of sweet Spring's advent!
Yes, thou'rt loved by all the Muses,
Phœbus' self, too, needs must love thee;
They their silver voices gave thee,
Age can neversteal upon the.