Love poems

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Love, What Is Love

© Robert Louis Stevenson

LOVE - what is love? A great and aching heart;
Wrung hands; and silence; and a long despair.
Life - what is life? Upon a moorland bare
To see love coming and see love depart.

Loud And Low In The Chimney

© Robert Louis Stevenson

LOUD and low in the chimney
The squalls suspire;
Then like an answer dwindles
And glows the fire,

Let Love Go, If Go She Will

© Robert Louis Stevenson

LET love go, if go she will.
Seek not, O fool, her wanton flight to stay.
Of all she gives and takes away
The best remains behind her still.

Late, O Miller

© Robert Louis Stevenson

LATE, O miller,
The birds are silent,
The darkness falls.
In the house the lights are lighted.

Know You The River NEar To Grez

© Robert Louis Stevenson

KNOW you the river near to Grez,
A river deep and clear?
Among the lilies all the way,
That ancient river runs to-day
From snowy weir to weir.

It's Forth Across The Roaring Foam

IT'S forth across the roaring foam, and on towards the west,
It's many a lonely league from home, o'er many a mountain crest,
From where the dogs of Scotland call the sheep around the fold,
To where the flags are flying beside the Gates of Gold.

In the Highlands

© Robert Louis Stevenson

IN the highlands, in the country places,
Where the old plain men have rosy faces,
And the young fair maidens
Quiet eyes;

In The Green And Gallant Spring

© Robert Louis Stevenson

IN the green and gallant Spring,
Love and the lyre I thought to sing,
And kisses sweet to give and take
By the flowery hawthorn brake.

In Maximum

© Robert Louis Stevenson

WOULDST thou be free? I think it not, indeed;
But if thou wouldst, attend this simple rede:
When quite contented }thou canst dine at home
Thou shall be free when }

I WHo All The Winter Through

© Robert Louis Stevenson

I WHO all the winter through
Cherished other loves than you,
And kept hands with hoary policy in marriage-bed and pew;
Now I know the false and true,
For the earnest sun looks through,
And my old love comes to meet me in the dawning and the dew.

I Now, O Friend, Whom Noiselessly The Snows

© Robert Louis Stevenson

I NOW, O friend, whom noiselessly the snows
Settle around, and whose small chamber grows
Dusk as the sloping window takes its load:

I Love To Be Warm By The Red Fireside

© Robert Louis Stevenson

I LOVE to be warm by the red fireside,
I love to be wet with rain:
I love to be welcome at lamplit doors,
And leave the doors again.

I Dreamed Of Forest Alleys fair

© Robert Louis Stevenson

I DREAMED of forest alleys fair
And fields of gray-flowered grass,
Where by the yellow summer moon
My Jenny seemed to pass.

I Do Not Fear To Own Me Kin

© Robert Louis Stevenson

I DO not fear to own me kin
To the glad clods in which spring flowers begin;
Or to my brothers, the great trees,
That speak with pleasant voices in the breeze,
Loud talkers with the winds that pass;
Or to my sister, the deep grass.

I Am Like One That For Long Days Had Sate

I AM like one that for long days had sate,
With seaward eyes set keen against the gale,
On some lone foreland, watching sail by sail,
The portbound ships for one ship that was late;

Home, My Little Children, Hear Are Songs For You

COME, my little children, here are songs for you;
Some are short and some are long, and all, all are new.
You must learn to sing them very small and clear,
Very true to time and tune and pleasing to the ear.

Had I The Power That Have The Will

HAD I the power that have the will,
The enfeebled will - a modern curse -
This book of mine should blossom still
A perfect garden-ground of verse.

God Gave To Me A Child In Part

GOD gave to me a child in part,
Yet wholly gave the father's heart:
Child of my soul, O whither now,
Unborn, unmothered, goest thou?

Go, Little Book - The Ancient Phrase

GO, little book - the ancient phrase
And still the daintiest - go your ways,
My Otto, over sea and land,
Till you shall come to Nelly's hand.

Flower God, God Of The Spring

FLOWER god, god of the spring, beautiful, bountiful,
Cold-dyed shield in the sky, lover of versicles,
Here I wander in April
Cold, grey-headed; and still to my