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Love And Friendship
Love is like the wild rose-briar,Friendship like the holly-tree,The holly is dark when the rose-briar bloomsBut which will bloom most contantly?The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring,Its summer blossoms scent the air;Yet wait till winter comes againAnd who wil call the wild-briar fair?Then scorn the silly rose-wreath nowAnd deck thee with the holly's sheen,That when December blights thy browHe may still leave thy garland green.
Emily Bronte
Apart
I.While sunset burns and stars are few,And roses scent the fading light,And like a slim urn, dripping dew,A spirit carries through the night,The pearl-pale moon hangs new, - I think of you, of you.II.While waters flow, and soft winds wooThe golden-hearted bud with sighs;And, like a flower an angel threw,Out of the momentary skiesA star falls burning blue, - I dream of you, of you.III.While love believes, and hearts are true,So let me think, so let me dream;The thought and dream so wedded toYour face, that, far apart, I seemTo see each thing you do, And be with you, with you.
Madison Julius Cawein
Persuasion.
Still must your hands withhold your loveliness? Is your soul jealous of your body still? The fair white limbs beneath the clouding dress Are such hard forms as you alone could fill With life and sweetness. Such a harmony Is yours as music and the thought expressed By the musician: have no rivalry Between your soul and the shape in which it's drest. Kisses or words, both sensual, which shall be The burning symbol of the love we bear? My art is words, yours song, but still must we Be mute and songless, seeing how love is fair. Both our known arts being useless, we must turn To love himself and his old practice learn.
Edward Shanks
Love's Prayer.
If Heaven would hear my prayer, My dearest wish would be,Thy sorrows not to share, But take them all on me;If Heaven would hear my prayer.I'd beg with prayers and sighs That never a tear might flowFrom out thy lovely eyes, If Heaven might grant it so;Mine be the tears and sighs.No cloud thy brow should cover, But smiles each other chaseFrom lips to eyes all over Thy sweet and sunny face;The clouds my heart should cover.That all thy path be light Let darkness fall on me;If all thy days be bright, Mine black as night could be.My love would light my night.For thou art more than life, And if our fate should setLife and my love at strife, How could I then...
John Hay
What Little Things!
From "One Day and Another"What little things are thoseThat hold our happiness!A smile, a glance, a roseDropped from her hair or dress;A word, a look, a touch, -These are so much, so much.An air we can't forget;A sunset's gold that gleams;A spray of mignonette,Will fill the soul with dreamsMore than all history says,Or romance of old days.For of the human heart,Not brain, is memory;These things it makes a partOf its own entity;The joys, the pains whereofAre the very food of love.
Lovest Thou Me? - John xxi.16.
Hark, my soul! it is the Lord:Tis thy Saviour, hear his word;Jesus speaks, and speaks to thee:Say, poor sinner, lovest thou me?I deliverd thee when bound,And when bleeding, heald thy wound;Sought thee wandering, set thee right,Turnd thy darkness into light.Can a womans tender careCease towards the child she bare?Yes, she may forgetful be,Yet will I remember thee.Mine is an unchanging love,Higher than the heights above;Deeper than the depths beneath,Free and faithful, strong as death.Thou shalt see my glory soon,When the work of grace is done;Partner of my throne shalt be: -Say, poor sinner, lovest thou me?Lord, it is my chief complaint,That my l...
William Cowper
Oh, Unforgotten and Only Lover
Oh, unforgotten and only lover,Many years have swept us apart,But none of the long dividing seasonsSlay your memory in my heart.In the clash and clamour of things unlovelyMy thoughts drift back to the times that were,When I, possessing thy pale perfection,Kissed the eyes and caressed the hair.Other passions and loves have driftedOver this wandering, restless soul,Rudderless, chartless, floating alwaysWith some new current of chance control.But thine image is clear in the whirling waters -Ah, forgive - that I drag it there,For it is so part of my very beingThat where I wander it too must fare.Ah, I have given thee strange companions,To thee - so slender and chaste and cool -But a white star loses no glimmer of beauty
Adela Florence Cory Nicolson
To Isabel.
Come near me with thy lips, and, breathe o'er mine Their breath, for I consume with love's desire, -Thine ivory arms about me clasp and twine, And beam upon mine eye thine eye's soft fire;Clasp me yet closer, till my heart feels thine Thrill, as the chords of Memnon's mystic lyreThrilled at the sun's uprising! thou who artThe lone, the worshipped idol of my heart!There! balmier than the south wind, when it brings The scent of aromatic shrub and tree,And tropic flower on ifs glowing wings, Thine odorous breath is wafted over me;How to thy dewy lips mine own lip clings, And my whole being is absorbed in thee;And in my breast thine eyes have lit a fireThat never, never, never shall expire!Eternal - is it not eternal -...
George W. Sands
The Blossoming of the Solitary Date-Tree
A LAMENTIBeneath the blaze of a tropical sun the mountain peaks are the Thrones of Frost, through the absence of objects to reflect the rays. `What no one with us shares, seems scarce our own.' The presence of a ONE, The best belov'd, who loveth me the best,is for the heart, what the supporting air from within is for the hollow globe with its suspended car. Deprive it of this, and all without, that would have buoyed it aloft even to the seat of the gods, becomes a burthen and crushes it into flatness.IIThe finer the sense for the beautiful and the lovely, and the fairer and lovelier the object presented to the sense; the more exquisite the individual's capacity of joy, and the more ample his means and opportunities of enjoyment, the more heavily will he feel th...
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Woman! When I Behold Thee Flippant, Vain
Woman! when I behold thee flippant, vain,Inconstant, childish, proud, and full of fancies;Without that modest softening that enhancesThe downcast eye, repentant of the painThat its mild light creates to heal again:E'en then, elate, my spirit leaps, and prances,E'en then my soul with exultation dancesFor that to love, so long, I've dormant lain:But when I see thee meek, and kind, and tender,Heavens! how desperately do I adoreThy winning graces; to be thy defenderI hotly burn to be a CalidoreA very Red Cross Knight a stout LeanderMight I be loved by thee like these of yore.Light feet, dark violet eyes, and parted hair;Soft dimpled hands, white neck, and creamy breast,Are things on which the dazzled senses restTill the fond, fixed eyes...
John Keats
Lovers
Why should I ask perfection of thee, sweet,That have so little of mine own to bring?That thou art beautiful from head to feet -Is that, beloved, such a little thing,That I should ask more of thee, and should flingThy largesse from me, in a world like this,O generous giver of thy perfect kiss?Thou gavest me thy lips, thine eyes, thine hair;I brought thee worship - was it not thy due?If thou art cruel - still art thou not fair?Roses thou gavest - shalt thou not bring rue?Alas! have I not brought thee sorrow too?How dare I face the future and its drouth,Missing that golden honeycomb thy mouth?Kiss and make up - 'tis the wise ancient way;Back to my arms, O bountiful deep breast!No more of words that know not what they say;To kiss ...
Richard Le Gallienne
Love Will Find
Seek ye the fairest lily of the field,The fairest lotus that in lakelet lies,The fairest rose that ever morn revealed,And Love will find from other eyes concealedA fairer flower in some fair woman's eyes.List ye the lark that warbles to the morn,The sweetest note that linnet ever sung,Or trembling lute in tune with silver horn,And Love will list and laugh your lute to scornA sweeter lute in some fair woman's tongue.Seek ye the dewy perfume seaward blownFrom flowering orange-groves to passing ships;Nay, sip the nectared dew of Helicon,And Love will find and claim it all his ownA sweeter dew on some fair woman's lips.Seek ye a couch of softest eider-down,The silken floss that baby birdling warms,Or shaded moss with blushin...
Hanford Lennox Gordon
Helen.
Heaped in raven loops and massesOver temples smooth and fair,Have you marked it, as she passes,Gleam and shadow mingled there,Braided strands of midnight air,Helen's hair?Deep with dreams and starry mazesOf the thought that in them lies,Have you seen them, as she raisesThem in gladness or surprise,Two gray gleams of daybreak skies,Helen's eyes?Moist with dew and honied waftersOf a music sweet that slips,Have you marked them, brimmed with laughter'sSong and sunshine to their tips,Rose-buds whence the fragrance drips,Helen's lips?He who sees her needs must love her:But, beware! avoid love's dart!He who loves her must discoverNature overlooked one part,In this masterpiece of artHelen's he...
First Love.
("Vous êtes singulier.")[MARION DELORME, Act I., June, 1829, played 1831.]MARION (smiling.) You're strange, and yet I love you thus.DIDIER. You love me?Beware, nor with light lips utter that word.You love me! - know you what it is to loveWith love that is the life-blood in one's veins,The vital air we breathe, a love long-smothered,Smouldering in silence, kindling, burning, blazing,And purifying in its growth the soul.A love that from the heart eats every passionBut its sole self; love without hope or limit,Deep love that will outlast all happiness;Speak, speak; is such the love you bear me?MARION. Truly.DIDIER. Ha! but you do not know how I love you!The day that first I saw you, the dark...
Victor-Marie Hugo
The Phantom of Love.
She stood by my side with a queenly air,Her face it was young and proud and fair;She held my rose in her hands of snow;It crimsoned her face with a deeper glow;The sunlight drooped in her eyes of fireAnd quickened my heart to a wild desire;I envied the rose in her hands so fair,I envied the flowers that gleamed in her hair.Ah! many a suitor I knew beforeHad knelt at her feet in the days of yore;And many a lover as foolish as I,Had proudly boasted to win or die.She had scorned them all with a careless graceAnd a woman's scorn on her beautiful face.Yet now in the summer I knelt at her feet,And dreamed a dream that was fair and sweet.The roses drooped in her gold-brown hair,And quivered and glowed in the sun-lit air;The jew...
Fannie Isabelle Sherrick
Gratitude.
There are some things, dear Friend, are easier far To say in written words than when we sit Eye answering eye, or hand to hand close knit.Not that there is between us any bar Of shyness or reserve; the day is past For that, and utter trust has come at last.Only, when shut alone and safe inside These four white walls, - hearing no sound except Our own heart-beatings, silences have creptStealthily round us, - as the incoming tide Quiet and unperceived creeps ever on Till mound and pebble, rock and reef are gone.Or out on the green hillside, even there There is a hush, and words and thoughts are still. For the trees speak, and myriad voices fillWith wondrous echoes all the waiting air. We listen, and in...
Sophie M. (Almon) Hensley
Mary.
My Mary's as sweet as the flowers that grow,By the side of the brooklet that runs near her cot;Her brow is as fair as the fresh fallen snow,And the gleam of her smile can be never forgot.Her figure is lithe and as graceful I weenAs was Venus when Paris awarded the prize,She's the wiles of a fairy, - the step of a queen,And the light of true love's in her bonny brown eyes.To see was to love her, - to love was to mourn, -For her heart was as fickle as April daysWhen you'd given her all and asked some return,You got but a taste of her false winsome ways.You never could tell, though you knew her so well,That her sweet fascinations were nothing but lies,Like a fool you loved on when of hope there was noneAnd your heart sought relief in her bonny bro...
John Hartley
Before Dawn
Sweet life, if life were stronger,Earth clear of years that wrong her,Then two things might live longer,Two sweeter things than they;Delight, the rootless flower,And love, the bloomless bower;Delight that lives an hour,And love that lives a day.From evensong to daytime,When April melts in Maytime,Love lengthens out his playtime,Love lessens breath by breath,And kiss by kiss grows olderOn listless throat or shoulderTurned sideways now, turned colderThan life that dreams of death.This one thing once worth givingLife gave, and seemed worth living;Sin sweet beyond forgivingAnd brief beyond regret:To laugh and love togetherAnd weave with foam and featherAnd wind and words the tetherOur memories p...
Algernon Charles Swinburne