love poems for her

I LOVE the sunshine everywhere,
In wood, and field, and glen;
I love it in the busy haunts
Of town-imprisoned men.

I love it when it streameth in
The humble cottage door
And casts the checkered casement shade
Upon the red-brick floor.

I love it where the children lie
Deep in the clovery grass,
To watch among the twining roots
The gold-green beetles pass.

I love it on the breezy sea,
To glance on sail and oar,
While the great waves, like molten glass,
Come leaping to the shore.

TO MY MOTHER .

Mother , Mother, how I loved thee!
And I know thou lov'dst me well;
But the gentle Saviour called thee
Home on high with saints to dwell.

Mother, gentlest of all creatures,
Patient, noble, just serene;
To me thou wert perfect, ideal;
Equal of thine, ne'er was seen.

Thou art gone! but not forgot by
Her who loved thee here on earth,

PROLOGUE

Women like us (passing for men), you'll cry,
Presume too much upon your secrecy.
There's not a fop in town but will pretend
To know the cheat himself, or by his friend.
Then make no words on 't, gallants, 'tis e'en true,
We are condemn'd to look, and strut, like you.
Since we thus freely our hard fate confess,
Accept us these bad times in any dress.
You'll find the sweet on 't, now old pantaloons
Will go as far as formerly new gowns;

In her young wedded daughter's brooding eyes,
Their troubled wonder and their grave surprise,
The mother read the news; and kissed her brow
With loving, tender lips she kissed, though now
Not merely as a child-embracing mother,
But as one woman welcoming another.

We've passed the station , the lovers said:
We thought this train stopped there.
We'll have to walk from the junction home.
Yet, why should the lovers care!

We'll have to walk six miles through the dark:
It's lucky the night is fair.
And they eyed each other with grave concern.
Yet, why should the lovers care!

O love, my love, what would I not give
To be walking now with you there
On the road you've taken alone through the dark! —
And why should the lovers care!

ON THE DEATH OF A BELOVED SON AND ONLY CHILD .

M Y olive plant, so green and fair;
My budding hope, my dearest care;
My only one! He only knew
Who gave — and, ah! how soon withdrew
The precious gift — how dear I loved
My plant on earth; and though removed
To higher climes and brighter skies,
With mournful tread and weeping eyes
I wander round his early tomb —
But light from heaven dispels the gloom!
An angel voice falls on my ear,
" Whom seek'st thou, weeping mother, here?

To be fainthearted, to be bold, to be raging mad,
surly, tender, generous, aloof,
courageous, near death, dead, alive,
loyal, treacherous, cowardly, spirited.

Not to find, beyond your lover, satisfaction or peace.
To look happy, sad, humble, arrogant,
irate, valiant, self-effacing,
satisfied, offended, distrustful.

To turn your face from clear proofs of deceit,
to drink poison as if it were a soothing liquor,
to disregard gain and delight in being injured.

To believe that heaven can lie contained in hell;

As one whose eyes, by gleam of waters caught,
Should find them strewn with pansies, so to me
It chanced that morning, as I bow'd the knee,
Soliciting th' approach of hallow'd thought;
I dream'd not that so dear a tomb was nigh;
My sidelong glance the lucid marble drew,
And, turning round about enquiringly,
I found it letter'd with the names I knew;
Three precious names I knew, and loved withal,
Yea, knew and loved, albeit too briefly known —
Louisa, Henry, and the boy just grown
To boyhood's prime, as each received the call;

My vnkinde Loue, or she that loues me deare,
Neptune will haue cast forth to calme the Seas.
One of these two, or all must perish here:
And therefore now, which shall I saue of these?
Ah! doe I make a question which to saue,
When my desires share but one onely part!
Who should it be but she to whom I haue
Resign'd my life, and sacrific'd my hart?
She, she must liue, the tempests of whose brow
Confound me more then all these stormes can doo,