poems about love

Thou thinkst thou Beautie see'st; But Cannst not knowe
Or butt beleiu'est Some foole that told thee so.
Suspend thy nose-witt, till flesh in hir Vme,
Past nine muskcatts Lifes, to Sweet Powder turne.
Say thou mayst touch or tast: if that be all
Thy Loue is Brute, thou a meere animall.

Sometimes, in the slime of a city street,
You will see a clear and lovely pattern
Of little loops and triangles
Imprinted by the tire
Of a motor truck.

Such was the life of No Sho,
The young and tender poet.
The city crushed him,
But he left his runes

Love mocks us all. Then cast aside
These tuneful plaints, my Albius tried
For heartless Glycera, from thee
Fled to a younger lover. See,
Low-browed Lycoris burns denied

For Cyrus; he—though goats shall bide
With wolves ere she in him confide—
Turns, with base suit, to Pholœ:—
Love mocks us all!

So Venus wills, and joys to guide
'Neath brazen yoke pairs ill-allied
In form and Mind. So linked she me
(Whom worthier wooed) to Myrtale,
Fair, but less kind than Hadria's tide:—
Love mocks us all!

You are coming home with the breath of spring
Flying home to a love-lined nest,
Most loving care hath made it fair
Your hands will do the rest

And the bridal robe you have laid aside
And the vail all of lacy foam,
The maiden's wed, the tour is sped
So welcome, welcome home

The past is laid by with the bridal wreath
The bride has come home a wife,
And now we pray that blessings may
Crown all your wedded life

What shall be the blessing, my dearest dear,
When it's all that we have to give?

The fairy bark is ready, and by the shore is moored;
Ye Fair! the pilot Cupid inviteth ye on board.
See!—see!—the anchor stirs, amid the waters dark,
And the little wingéd mariners are eager to embark!

Of purple are her sails, which tremble in the breeze,
And Laughter is the captain bold, who guides her through the seas.
The enamoured air floats round, with sportive wing and lip,
And swells the silken canvass, and moves the gallant ship!

Her sail-yards are of silver, divinely laboured o'er,

Good madam, when ladies are willing,
A man must needs look like a fool;
For me, I would not give a shilling
For one who would love out of rule.

You should leave us to guess by your blushing,
And not speak the matter so plain;
'Tis our's to write and be pushing,
'Tis your's to affect a disdain.

That you're in a terrible taking,
By all these sweet oglings I see;
But the fruit that can fall without shaking,
Indeed is too mellow for me.

Laughter shapes a new love
In the mind now grown
Complacent with the sorrow
Of love that sleeps like stone.
Laughter is an arrow,
Blown as light is blown.

Laughter is the true love.
One by one by one,
First loves turn to trouble,
Grow wistful and are done.
But laughter is a bubble
Unmindful of the sun.

The noise of shouting strikes my ear,
The tramp of hurrying feet I hear,
They've caught him on the way.
Venus, the men whose hearts he burned
Fiercely upon young Love have turned:
How can you heedless stay!

In this world,
so many moments of pain—
journeying through
plains of bamboo grass,
I met my loved one in a dream

Tempest and terror below; but Christ the Almighty above.
Tho' the depth of the deep overflow, tho' fire run along on the ground,
Tho' all billows and flames make a noise,—and where is an Ark for the dove?—
Tho' sorrows rejoice against joys, and death and destruction abound:
Yet Jesus abolisheth death, and Jesus Who loves us we love;
His dead are renewed with a breath, His lost are the sought and the found.
Thy wanderers call and recall, Thy dead men lift out of the ground;
O Jesus, Who lovest us all, stoop low from Thy Glory above: