love poetry

When thou shalt wander by that sweet light
We used to gaze on so many an eve,
When love was new and hope was bright,
Ere I could doubt or thou deceive —
Oh, then, remembering how swift went by
Those hours of transport, even thou may'st sigh.

Yes, proud one! even thy heart may own
That love like ours was far too sweet
To be, like summer garments, thrown
Aside, when past the summer's heat;
And wish in vain to know again

'T is believed that this Harp, which I wake now for thee,
Was a Siren of old, who sung under the sea;
And who often, at eve, thro' the bright waters roved,
To meet, on the green shore, a youth whom she loved.

But she loved him in vain, for he left her to weep,
And in tears, all the night, her gold tresses to steep;
Till heaven looked with pity on true-love so warm,
And changed to this soft Harp the sea-maiden's form.

Still her bosom rose fair — still her cheeks smiled the same —

And are you then a thing of art,
Seducing all, and loving none;
And have I strove to gain a heart
Which every coxcomb thinks his own?

Tell me at once if this be true,
And I will calm my jealous breast;
Will learn to join the dangling crew,
And share your simpers with the rest.

But if your heart be not so free, —
Oh! if another share that heart,
Tell not the hateful tale to me,

Think on that look whose melting ray
For one sweet moment mixt with mine,
And for that moment seemed to say,
" I dare not, or I would be thine! "

Think on thy every smile and glance,
On all thou hast to charm and move;
And then forgive my bosom's trance,
Nor tell me it is sin to love.

Oh, not to love thee were the sin;
For sure, if Fate's decrees be done,
Thou, thou art destined still to win,

WRITTEN IN HER ALBUM .

They say that Love had once a book
(The urchin likes to copy you),
Where, all who came, the pencil took,
And wrote, like us, a line or two.

'T was Innocence, the maid divine,
Who kept this volume bright and fair,
And saw that no unhallowed line
Or thought profane should enter there;

And daily did the pages fill

Yes , if 't were any common love,
That led my pliant heart astray,
I grant, there's not a power above
Could wipe the faithless crime away.

But, 't was my doom to err with one
In every look so like to thee
That, underneath yon blessed sun
So fair there are but thou and she

Both born of beauty, at a birth,
She held with thine a kindred sway,
And wore the only shape on earth
That could have lured my soul to stray.

Then blame me not, if false I be,
'T was love that waked the fond excess;

Eque brevi verbo ferre perenne maium.

S ECUNDUS , eleg. vil.

Still the question I must parry,
Still a wayward truant prove:
Where I love, I must not marry;
Where I marry, can not love.

Were she fairest of creation,
With the least presuming mind;
Learned without affectation;
Not deceitful, yet refined;

Wise enough, but never rigid;

Back in those days ere I thought of love,
Kissing at games in a picnic grove,
Cried one lass as she made a spring:
" Make me a Lap! you stingy thing! "
Down in my lap sat the tired madcap
And in a snap she had " made her a Lap. "

Lissome, pliant, innocent vine,
Still to my heart I can feel her twine,
Trustfully as my kitten's play,
Light as the birds in that greenwood day;
Sweet as the sap in the fruit tree's tap,
Vine-like her wrap as I " made her a Lap. "

Country heart! there is no mishap, —

We are climbin' Jacob's ladder,
Soldier(s) of the cross.

Ev'ry round goes higher 'n' higher,
Soldier(s) of the cross.

Sinner ( or : brother), do you love my Jesus?
Soldier(s) of the cross.

Rise, shine, give God the glory,
Soldier(s) of the cross.

Another couplet:

If you love Him, why not serve Him?

By Mr. Brown .

Whether we Mortals love or no,
'Tis the same Case whate'er we do.
For Love does killing Pleasure give,
And without Love 'tis Death to Live:
If then to love, so painful be,
And not to love be Misery,
What a sad Case must he be in,
Who has disgrac'd and jilted been?
Banish'd for ever from those Eyes,
Which conquer Fools, and fool the Wise,
And none but Stoicks can despise?
They conquer, but they will not yield,
Love knows no such unequal Field: