love poems for her

Sweet birds that inhabit my trees,
Melodious heralds of morn;
No more can your harmony please,
Since Phillida's left me forlorn.

You saw yester eve in the grove,
Sweet blushes vermillion'd her cheek;
You heard her approve of my love,
And vow she'd mine in a week.

Ye minstrels, she's false as the wind,
She's fled to a far richer swain.
Yet tho' she has prov'd so unkind,
Love bids me in silence complain;
While Hope, with a tender concern,
Says, Phillida yet may return.

I

Gloom!
An October like November;
August a hundred thousand hours,
And all September;
A hundred thousand dragging sunlit days,
And half October like a thousand years ...
And doom!
That then was Antwerp ...
In the name of God,
How could they do it?
Those souls that usually dived
Into the dirty caverns of mines;
Who usually hived
In whitened hovels; under ragged poplars;
Who dragged muddy shovels over the grassy mud,

Collin , for Love expiring, crys,
To see the Nymph , before he dies .
She went in Pity , 'tis confess'd,
She went; but deck'd in all her Best .

INTENDED FOR MUSIC

Clad in flow'r-embroider'd veil,
Hail, auspicious morning, hail!
When in Hymen's holy bands
Blooming Emily, the fair,
And Eugenio, happy pair!
Chang'd their hearts, and join'd their hands.
Virgin coldness then relented,
Like the snow before the sun,
Then sweet Emily consented,
Not unwilling, to be won.

AIR

Believe me, love, I've kept the day,
But not with noise or glee —
I've cheer'd my heart, though far away,
With quiet thoughts of thee.

I have not breathed thy name above
The wine-cup's sparkling tide —
But oh! I've dreamt of all the love,
I've shared when by thy side.

The glowing picture of thy youth,
In maiden charms attired;
The vows of tenderness and truth
Thy modest worth inspired,

The ardent hopes, the anxious fears,
That mark our wedded lot —

Believe me, Love, dear inmate of my breast,
Friendship shall never break my faith with thee;
No, though too oft thou robb'st my soul of rest,
My solemn vows shall ever sacred be.

My heart, that proudly boasts the purest flame
That ever blazed before thy sacred shrine,
Can ne'er, seduced by friendship's specious name,
Confess her calmer joys are more divine.

By thee alone my soul has long been taught

O Strephon! how useless your Counsel must prove,
Who sighs for Belinda for ever must love;
For thus the dread Power of Love has decreed!
Who once wears her Fetters shall never be freed,
On absolute Beauty an absolute Sway
Is justly bestow'd, and with Pride we obey.

Thou com'st, fair daughter of the Spring!
Ah! must I shun thee, lovely May?
No more to thee sweet incense bring,
Or deck thy shrine with chaplets gay?

Far distant from thy sportive train,
Must I to some lone rock retreat?
There to the curling waves complain,
Who, pitying, wash my weary feet,

That I no more with pleasure see
Thy various beauties, lovely May, —
The op'ning flow'r, the blossom'd tree,

I.

'Tis strange, Belinda , you shou'd ask,
To learn , what you so oft bestow !
You now impose too hard a Task ,
And I my Weakness needs must show.

II.

What Love is not, I know full well:
Blind Mortals , when they talk of Pain,
And Joys of Heaven , or of Hell ,
By Negatives the Theme maintain.

III.

True Love is not that rash Desire,
That sudden Start of Grief , and Joy ,

From the Cradle to the Grave
Mighty Love does all inslave.
First in Miss , and Master 's Brain
He begins his idle reign:
Nymphs , and Swains , and purling Streams,
Rival Knights , and rival Queens ,
Dreams of Pleasure pure as they,
(Symptoms of approaching Day)
In their dawning Fancies play;
Wishes , which in forming dye,
Tender Sighs they scarce know why.
Sighs , at length, awake Desire ,
Love becomes a raging Fire ,
Strongly seizes every Part,
Warms the Blood, and wounds the Heart .