love poems for her

FROM AN UNPUBLISHED TALE .

For thee, love, for thee, love,
I'll brave fate's sternest storm;
She cannot daunt or chill the hearts
Which love keeps bold and warm:
And when her clouds are blackest, nought
But thy sweet self I'll see,
Nor hear, amidst the tempest, aught
But thee, love, only thee.

For thee, love, for thee, love,
My fond heart would resign

But to have hung enamoured on those lips
To drink the passion of those beaming eyes!
Yet, yet to feel th'intoxicating power
Which stole into my heart at every word
Of that soft voice that vibrates in my ear —
Thus to have loved and loved to extasy
And be beloved again — Oh rapturous bliss!
Destroyed and lost! Yes all on earth conspired
Against the voice of Heaven; against my hopes;
And must I never more indulge the dreams
That love to call thee by a name even yet
More fond more sacred more endeared than lover?

Let Satire with her venom'd sting
Give pain to all that meet her wing,
Disturb their nights, and cloud their days:
Be mine the cup of Love and Praise .

Be ever banish'd from delight
The curse of being in the right:
Be mine endearment's partial rays,
Be my Reviewers Love and Praise .

S WEET bloom, that 's ever in its prime,
Superior to the waste of Time,
Your privilege we all approve —
But wish the secret known to Love .

With insolent conceit of taste,
I swore on Briton Ferry's hill,
" No other charms my love should waste,
Enchantment there its cup should fill. "

But soon the Nymphs of Dinevawr
Around me danc'd with Beauty's chain,
Commenc'd the Rival's jealous war,
And bound me to their smiling reign.

Then Hafod's Muse entranc'd my love,
Secluded in her arms I lay,
Explor'd with her the pathless grove,

I AM no rustic beauty's friend,
The barn and stack my taste offend.
I own 'tis classical to keep
With shepherd's crook the lambs and sheep,
Or sing of Love to shepherdesses
With nut-brown hands and flowing tresses.
But upon fancy none agree,
And this employment suits not me.
Forgive it, ye poetic themes,
I have no taste for vocal streams,
That ring in one eternal chime
Monotony's dull note of Time;
The cawing rook delights not me,
The lowing herd, or humming bee:

HERE Emma , though her discipline was hard,
Was made immortal by a deathless Bard:
For, though her Love nor age nor scene can boast,
The Nine adopt, and personate the Ghost.

A Girl , on amorous follies bent,
From Oxford a Knight-errant went;
A Connoisseur in love-devices,
Though in her teens; — they call'd her Isis .
A Shepherd-youth, in mean attire,
Won the fair prize; and Fame's no liar.
Discretion frown'd; — but Nature smil'd,
And Miss grew thoroughly with child; —
The little Rake's adopted name
(For he had none at first) was Thame .
She took him with her on the journey,
Without a Parson or Attorney;

Light Courser! as the wing'd immortal steed
That Perseus bore, when for the naked charm
(That Love had promis'd the victorious arm)
He cleft the Monster — and the generous deed
Won Beauty's recompence! — or if the seed
Lives of Bucephalus , whose fierce alarm
Nor courage could oppose, nor skill disarm —
For him predestin'd, whom the Fates decreed
The World's commanding Spirit: — of that race,
But not so tam'd art thou — whose neck sublime,
And bounding feet, and flaming eye, display

Sweet looks! and gracious words! no more shall I
Your votary bend? — Ye golden tresses! bands
Of Love, whose chain my captive soul demands,
And leads me on, impatient of reply,
Till Death shall close the unavailing sigh! —
Celestial beauty, which these pious hands
Could ne'er propitiate, nor in distant lands
My heart could soften, or my verse could fly! —
Alluring smiles! — and Love's insidious hour
Of joy, that soothes me to betray, farewell!
No more I feel your vernal ray divine