Love poems

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Coquette et Froide

© Julia Ward Howe

Would that Love's fond pursuit
Were crownèd never,
Or that his virgin kiss
Lasted for ever!

That the Science of Cartography Is Limited

© Eavan Boland

and not simply by the fact that this shading of
forest cannot show the fragrance of balsam,
the gloom of cypresses,
is what I wish to prove.

Quarantine

© Eavan Boland

In the worst hour of the worst season
of the worst year of a whole people
a man set out from the workhouse with his wife.
He was walking-they were both walking-north.

This is a man
on the road from Youghal to Cahirmoyle.
He has no comfort, no food and no future.
He has no fire to recite his friendless measures by.
His riddles and flatteries will have no reward.
His patrons sheath their swords in Flanders and Madrid.

To Thos. Floyd

© Robert Seymour Bridges

How fares it, friend, since I by Fate annoy'd
Left the old home in need of livelier play
For body and mind? How fare, this many a day,
The stubborn thews and ageless heart of Floyd?

The Growth of Love

© Robert Seymour Bridges

So in despite of sorrow lately learn'd
I still hold true to truth since thou art true,
Nor wail the woe which thou to joy hast turn'd
Nor come the heavenly sun and bathing blue
To my life's need more splendid and unearn'd
Than hath thy gift outmatch'd desire and due.

So sweet love seemed that April morn

© Robert Seymour Bridges

So sweet love seemed that April morn,
When first we kissed beside the thorn,
So strangely sweet, it was not strange
We thought that love could never change.

Pater Filio

© Robert Seymour Bridges

Sense with keenest edge unusèd,
Yet unsteel'd by scathing fire;
Lovely feet as yet unbruisèd
On the ways of dark desire;
Sweetest hope that lookest smiling
O'er the wilderness defiling!

Nimium Fortunatus

© Robert Seymour Bridges

I have lain in the sun
I have toil'd as I might,
I have thought as I would,
And now it is night.

My Delight and Thy Delight

© Robert Seymour Bridges

My delight and thy delight
Walking, like two angels white,
In the gardens of the night:

Melancholia

© Robert Seymour Bridges

The sickness of desire, that in dark days
Looks on the imagination of despair,
Forgetteth man, and stinteth God his praise;
Nor but in sleep findeth a cure for care.

I Will Not Let Thee Go

© Robert Seymour Bridges

I will not let thee go.
Ends all our month-long love in this?
Can it be summed up so,
Quit in a single kiss?
I will not let thee go.

From 'The Testament of Beauty'

© Robert Seymour Bridges

'Twas at that hour of beauty when the setting sun
squandereth his cloudy bed with rosy hues, to flood
his lov'd works as in turn he biddeth them Good-night;
and all the towers and temples and mansions of men

Awake, My Heart

© Robert Seymour Bridges

The darkness silvers away, the morn doth break,
It leaps in the sky: unrisen lustres slake
The o'ertaken moon. Awake, O heart, awake!

Absence

When my love was away,
Full three days were not sped,
I caught my fancy astray
Thinking if she were dead,

Spires of the fireweed.

© Ian Emberson

Spires of the fireweed on the fretted sky
Tints of magenta on tranquility,
Do you feel nurture for the life within,
The burst of bloom that yields your progeny.

When it was autumn in Eden

© Ian Emberson

When it was autumn in Eden
and chestnuts held golden leaves
against dimming light ,
Eve touched her toes on the sodden

O Poor People

Let us invoke a healthy heart-breaking
Towards the horrible world:
Let us say 0 poor people
How can they help being so absurd,
Misguided, abused, misled?