Venetian Serenade.

Come, come to me, love!
    Come, love!--Arise
And shame the bright stars
    With the light of thine eyes;
Look out from thy lattice--
    Oh, lady-bird, hear!
A swan on the water--
    My gondola's near!

Come, come to me, love!
    Come, love!--My bride!
O'er crystal in moonbeams
    We'll tranquilly glide:
In the dip of the oar
    A melody flows
Sweet as the nightingale
    Sings to the rose.

Come, come to me, love!
    Come, love!--The day
Brings warder and cloister!
    Away, then--away!
Oh, haste to thy lover!
    Not yon star above
Is more true to heaven
    Then he to his love!

George Pope Morris

George Pope Morris was an American editor, poet, and songwriter. Born on October 10, 1802, he made significant contributions to American literature and music. Morris co-founded and edited the New York Evening Mirror, where he published works by Edgar Allan Poe and others. He is perhaps best known for his song "Woodman, Spare That Tree!" and his role in the early 19th-century literary scene. Morris died on July 6, 1864, leaving behind a legacy of editorial and creative work that influenced many American writers and musicians.

George Pope Morris

The Dog-Star Rages.

George Pope Morris, Simple Poetry

Epigram. On Reading Grim's Attack Upon Clinton.

George Pope Morris, Simple Poetry

My Mother's Bible.

George Pope Morris, Simple Poetry

The Croton Ode.

George Pope Morris, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The Star of Love.

The star of love now shines above,
    Cool zephyrs crisp the sea;
Among the leaves the wind-harp weaves
    Its serenade for thee.
The star, the breeze, the wave, the trees,
    Their minstrelsy unite,
But all are drear till thou appear
    To decorate the night.

The light of noon streams from the moon,
    Though with a milder ray
O'er hill and grove, like woman's love,
    It cheers us on our way.
Thus all that's bright--the moon, the night,
    The heavens, the earth, the sea,
Exert their powers to bless the hours
    We dedicate to thee.

George Pope Morris

Oh, Come To Me When Daylight Sets. (Venetian Air.)

Oh, come to me when daylight sets;
    Sweet! then come to me,
When smoothly go our gondolets
    O'er the moonlight sea.
When Mirth's awake, and Love begins,
    Beneath that glancing ray,
With sound of lutes and mandolins,
    To steal young hearts away.
Then, come to me when daylight sets;
    Sweet! then come to me,
When smoothly go our gondolets
    O'er the moonlight sea.

Oh, then's the hour for those who love,
    Sweet, like thee and me;
When all's so calm below, above,
    In Heaven and o'er the sea.
When maiden's sing sweet barcarolles,
    And Echo sings again
So sweet, that all with ears and souls
    Should love and listen then.
So, come to me when daylight sets;
    Sweet! then come to me,
When smoothly go our ...

Thomas Moore

Lisette.

When Love in myrtle shades reposed,
His bow and darts behind him slung;
As dewey twilight round him closed,
Lisette these numbers sung:
"O Love! thy sylvan bower
I'll fly while I've the power;
Thy primrose way leads maids where they
Love, honor, and obey!"

"Escape," the boy-god said, "is vain,"
And shook the diamonds from his wings:
"I'll bind thee captive to my train,
Fairest of earthy things!"
"Go, saucy archer, go!
I freedom's value know:
Begon, I pray--to none I'll say
Love, honor, and obey!"

"Speed, arrow, to thy mark!" he cried--
Swift as a ray of light it flew!
Love spread his purple pinions wide,
And faded from her view!
Joy filled that maiden's eyes--
Twin load-stars from the skies!--
And one bright day her li...

George Pope Morris

Tis Now the Promised Hour. A Serenade.

The fountains serenade the flowers,
    Upon their silver lute--
And, nestled in their leafy bowers,
    The forest-birds are mute:
The bright and glittering hosts above
    Unbar their golden gates,
While Nature holds her court of love,
    And for her client waits.
Then, lady, wake--in beauty rise!
    'Tis now the promised hour,
When torches kindle in the skies
    To light thee to thy bower.
The day we dedicate to care--
    To love the witching night;
For all that's beautiful and fair
    In hours like these unite.
E'en thus the sweets to flowerets given--
    The moonlight on the tree--
And all the bliss of earth and heaven--
    Are mingled, love, in thee.
Then, lady, wake--in beauty rise!
    'Tis now the promised hour,
Wh...

George Pope Morris

Lines. After the Manner of the Olden Time.

O Love! the mischief thou hast done!
Thou god of pleasure and of pain!--
None can escape thee--yes there's one--
All others find the effort vain:
Thou cause of all my smiles and tears!
Thou blight and bloom of all my years!

Love bathes him in the morning dews,
Reclines him in the lily bells,
Reposes in the rainbow hues,
And sparkles in the crystal wells,
Or hies him to the coral-caves,
Where sea-nymphs sport beneath the waves.

Love vibrates in the wind-harp's tune--
With fays and oreads lingers he--
Gleams in th' ring of the watery moon,
Or treads the pebbles of the sea.
Love rules "the court, the camp, the grove"--
Oh, everywhere we meet thee, Love!

And everywhere he welcome finds,
From cottage-door to palace-porch--
Love...

George Pope Morris

Look From Thy Lattice, Love.

Look from thy lattice, love--
    Listen to me!
The cool, balmy breeze
    Is abroad on the sea!
The moon, like a queen,
    Roams her realms above,
And naught is awake
    But the spirit of love.
Ere morn's golden light
    Tips the hills with its ray,
Away o'er the waters--
    Away and away!
Then look from thy lattice, love--
    Listen to me.
While the moon lights the sky,
    And the breeze curls the sea!
Look from thy lattice, love--
    Listen to me!
In the voyage of life,
    Love our pilot will be!
He'll sit at the helm
    Wherever we rove,
And steer by the load-star
    He kindled above!
His gem-girdled shallop
    Will cut the bright spray,
Or skim, like a bird,
    O'er the waters away!
T...

George Pope Morris