love poem

THIS is the baby I love!
The baby that cannot talk;
The baby that cannot walk;
The baby that just begins to creep;
The baby that's cuddled and rocked to sleep;
Oh, this is the baby I love!

This is the baby I love!
The baby that's never cross;
The baby papa can toss;
The baby that crows when held aloft;
The baby that's rosy and round and soft!
Oh, this is the baby I love!

This is the baby I love!
The baby that laughs when I peep

LOVE SUPREME

You ask what love is? It is this, my own:
To hold all women pure because of you,
Yet give heart reverence unto you alone,
And for your sake be steadfast, brave, and true.

What a dainty life the milkmaid leads!
When over the flowery meads
She dabbles in the dew,
And sings to her cow;
And feels not the pain
Of love or disdain:
She sleeps in the night though she toils in the day,
And merrily passeth her time away.

What a dainty life the milkmaid leads!
When over the flowery meads
She dabbles in the dew,
And sings to her cow;
And feels not the pain
Of love or disdain:
She sleeps in the night though she toils in the day,
And merrily passeth her time away.

I PRAY thee leave, love me no more,
Call home the Heart you gave me,
I but in vaine that Saint adore,
That can, but will not save me:
These poore halfe kisses kill me quite;
Was ever man thus served?
Amidst an Ocean of Delight,
For Pleasure to be sterved.

Shew me no more those Snowie Brests
With Azure Riverets branched,
Where whilst mine Eye with Plentie feasts,
Yet is my Thirst not stanched.
O Tantalus , thy Paines ne'er tell,
By me thou art prevented;
'Tis nothing to be plagu'd in Hell,

On Fridays he'd open a can of Jax
After coming home from the mill,
& ask me to write a letter to my mother
Who sent postcards of desert flowers
Taller than men. He would beg,
Promising to never beat her
Again. Somehow I was happy
She had gone, & sometimes wanted
To slip in a reminder, how Mary Lou
Williams' " Polka Dots & Moonbeams "
Never made the swelling go down.
His carpenter's apron always bulged
With old nails, a claw hammer
Looped at his side & extension cords
Coiled around his feet.

1

Honest lover whosoever,
If in all thy love there ever
Was one wav'ring thought, if thy flame
Were not still even, still the same:
Know this,
Thou lov'st amiss;
And, to love true,
Thou must begin again, and love anew.

2

If when she appears i' th' room,
Thou dost not quake, and are struck dumb,
And, in striving this to cover,
Dost not speak thy words twice over:
Know this,

Time, you thief, who love to get
Sweets within your pipe, put that in!
Say I'm weary, say I'm sad,
Say I'm growing old — but add,
G. M. Trevelyan wanted me to deliver a Clark Lecture.

Yours sincerely, and with deep regret,

If it be love, in every pulse's tide
To feel a secret pure devoted flame
And with feign'd smiles unceasing torture hide
Deep in the soul — my passion has a name!

If it be love, to live but in one thought,
To breathe but for another — weal or woe
Only to feel when from another caught
This, this is Love! ... I feared it must be so!

If it be Love, to worship night and day

He came: and down through the gathering shadows
The stars flashed far with a sudden light;
Sweet perfume stole from the damp, dark meadows,
Glory and gladness filled the night.

He went: and over the morning's splendor
A darkness swept to its shining rim;
Earth's throbbing heart-beats glad and tender
Hushed to a silence deep and dim.

Ah dearest love! The ebbing and flowing
Of time and its seasons are naught to me;
Still is it winter when thou art going,
And summer whenever thy face I see.

XX.
What thing is love but mourning?
What desire, but a selfe-burning?
Till shee that hates doth love returne,
Thus will I mourne, thus will I sing,
Come away, come away, my darling.

Beautie is but a blooming,
Youth in his glorie entombing;
Time hath a wheel which none can stay:
Then come away, while thus I sing,
Come away, come away, my darling.

Sommer in winter fadeth,