poems about love

If you love me, love of mine,
Let me feel it day by day!
Never take the light divine
Of your tender love away!
Let me feel it when we meet,
By the joy that fills my heart
Making every moment sweet;
By my sorrow, when we part.

Let me feel that you are mine,
When the autumn leaves alight;
When the suns of summer shine;
When the stars begem the night.
Let me feel it hour by hour,
As the seasons come and go:
When the golden kingcups flower;
When the fields are white with snow.

Woe to the man who having touched a Bride
Elect in heaven, a daughter of the spheres,
To earth descends and quits his angel-peers
And lives as man,—his very soul has died.
He who once wandered by a seraph's side
Through groves unearthly now with terror hears
The wizard music that with passionate tears
He heard of old, by hearing deified.

I marked the voices of vast angel-hosts—
And all with one terrific grim accord
Cried out in Love's name, “Keen-edged is the sword
That through that man's most hapless heart shall smite

Better Love's bond should snap with the rending of soul and spirit
Than it should fritter away and part we never knew when.

I lived in Hell the other day
Its fires wrapt me angrily,
But now their horrors fall and fade
Like ghosts that memory has made.

I lived in Hell even today,
How swift the fierce flames die away—
Submerged with kisses, I forget,
With tears upon my pillows yet.

Sing me a song of the South, my love,
Of dear old Dixie land;
Where flowers are abloom and skies above
And the climate's pretty grand;
Where the mocking birds and the cuckoos flit
All day from tree to tree.
Make me a song like that, and split
The royalties with me.

Sing me a song of the South, my love,
Of dear old Dixie land;
Where flowers are abloom and skies above
And the climate's pretty grand;
Where the mocking birds and the cuckoos flit
All day from tree to tree.
Make me a song like that, and split

This is the month of sunrise skies
Intense with molten mist and flame;
Out of the purple deeps arise
Colors no painter yet could name:
Gold-lilies and the cardinal-flower
Were pale against this gorgeous hour.

Still lovelier when athwart the east
The level beam of sunset falls:
The tints of wild-flowers long deceased
Glow then upon the horizon walls;
Shades of the rose and violet
Close to their dear world lingering yet.

What idleness, to moan and fret
For any season fair, gone by!

The truest love that ever heart
Felt at its kindled core
Did through each vein, in quickened start,
The tide of being pour.

Her coming was my hope each day,
Her parting was my pain;
The chance that did her steps delay,
Was ice in every vein.

I dreamed it would be nameless bliss,
As I loved, loved to be;
And to this object did I press
As blind as eagerly.

But wide as pathless was the space
That lay, our lives, between,
And dangerous as the foamy race
Of ocean-surges green.

1. Oh, Jesus, my Saviour, I know thou art mine;
2. Thou art my rich treasure, my joy and my love.
For thee all the pleasures of earth I resign.
(None richer possessed by the angels above);
Of objects most pleasing, I love thee the best;
For thee all the pleasures of sense I forego.
Without thee I'm wretched, but with thee I'm blessed.
And wander a pilgrim despisèd below.

3. Thy Spirit first taught me to know I was blind,
And taught me the way of salvation to find.
For when I was sinking in dreadful despair,

I am the soul of the Universe,
In Nature's pulse I beat;
To Doom and Death I am a curse,
I trample them under my feet.

Creation's every voice is mine,
I breathe in its every tone;
I have in every heart a shrine,
A consecrated throne.

The whisper that sings in the summer leaves,
The hymn of the star-lit brook,
The martin that nests in the ivied eaves,
The dove in his shaded nook,

The quivering heart of the blushing flower,
The thick Æolian grass,
The harmonies of the summer shower,

Let C OLERIDGE sing his G ENEVIEVE ,
Who at his sad song could but grieve,
And loved because she pitied;
And K EATS his lovely M ADELINE ,
With rosy mouth and eyes divine,
And lips for kisses fitted;
That with her lover through the night,
Darkness without, within all light,
To far-off countries flitted.
Let T ENNYSON his L ILIAN sing
And lovely O RIANA ,
And scale the skies with tireless wing,
In praise of M ARIANA ,
I sing one lovelier by far,
One pure and gentle as a star,
A modest, young, sweet creature,