love poetry

In Loves pure Sympathy, endeared Friend,
I know that secret Trials will attend,
And raise some Conflicts in thy tender Breast,
Such as by Pen cannot be well express'd:
But all things shall (as left upon Record)
Convene for good to them that fear the Lord.
Some latent cause, from Carnal Eye conceal'd,
May bring a Satisfaction, when reveal'd
By that Refulgent Light; whose sacred Ray
Leads on the Meek in Sion 's pleasant Way;
Whose Paths are Peace to them that persevere
To follow Jesus with an holy Fear;

A FRAGMENT .

Of Doves sweet gentle birds, the heaven-born Muse
Prepares to sing, their manners and what law
The blameless race obey, their cares and loves.
O sacred Virgin, that, to me unseen
Yet present, whispers nightly in my ear
Love-dited song or tale of martial Knight,
As best becomes the time, and aidful grants
Celestial grace implor'd: O! bounteous, say
What favourite maid in her first bloom of youth
Wilt choose to honour? seem I not to see
The laurel shake, and hear the voice divine

O Love! Thou Substance of the Royal Law,
Let thy sweet Influencing Power draw
Our troubled Hearts, in true Humility,
To wait on thee with holy Fervency:
For thou our Souls hast often visited,
That we might, by thy tender hand, be led
From Darkness unto Light; from Enmity,
Strife and Contention, unto Unity,
In Undefiled, in Unfeigned Love;
Which, tho' it may in Gentleness reprove,
Or otherwise instruct, it covers all.
Faults and Offences; yea, if any fall
Through Weakness, it bears up with ready Hand,

WRITTEN FOR MUSIC AT THE REQUEST OF A. WOOD, ESQ .

1.

Beautiful River! goldenly shining
Where with the cistus woodbines are twining;
(Birklands around thee, mountains above thee,)
Rivilin wildest! do I not love thee?

2.

Why do I love thee, Heart-breaking River?
Love thee, and leave thee? Leave thee for ever?
Never to see thee, where the storms greet thee!
Never to hear thee, rushing to meet me!

3.

Never to hail thee, joyfully chiming
Beauty in music, Sister of Wiming!

My Life, my Love, my Joy,
Who can enough admire
The Sweetning Influence
Of Shiloh 's Stream, from whence
Vertue abounds unto thy Plants, whereby
The Lilly sprouts, free from the Choaking Bryar;
Thy Trees do likewise bring forth Fruit, & flourish,
To th'Praise of thee, who dost both Prune and Cherish.

The King of Kings, the Great Eternal One,
Sent from his Bosom his Beloved Son,
Lost Man to seek, and to Restore ag'in,
From the most vile Captivity of Sin;
Who for our sakes his Father's Throne forsook,
And, as a Servant, freely on him took
The Form of Man, and among Mortals came;
Yea, meekly bore the Cross, despis'd the Shame;
Walking on Earth amongst his Chosen Ones,
The Isra'lites , beloved Jacob 's Sons.
But they, Rebelling in disdainful Pride,
Their King, their Saviour, disown'd, deny'd;

1.

From age to age, the bad grew worse,
And still retorted curse for curse,
Though seas, and skies, and light, and air,
Sang, thus, in concert, every where:
Sow not weeds, and say, " Here flowers will bloom! "
Home to roost all curses come.

2.

On willful woes the sun arose,
The sun went down on willful woes,

Love is the ocean, when it swells
And flows upon the land,
Caressing with its waves and shells
The dull forsaken strand.

Love is the carol of the bird,
The light of summer's sun,
The calm of twilight softly stirred
By symphonies of home.

Love is the sweetest scent of flower,
The ripest taste of fruit,
The soft-descending vernal shower,
That laves the tender shoot.

Love is the brightly glistening tear
Of heart that, joyous, weeps;
An angel-form, that hovers near

When, Dearest, I but think on thee,
Methinks all things that lovely be
Are present, and my soul delighted:
For beauties that from worth arise,
Are like the grace of Deities,
Still present with us, though unsighted.

Thus while I sit and sigh the day,
With all his spreading lights away,
Till nights black wings do overtake me:
Thinking on thee, thy beauties then,
As sudden lights do sleeping men,
So they by their bright rayes awake me.

Thus absence dyes, and dying proves

Taken with Love of Adriana His misfortune thus He bewailes

O cruell Nimph fayre Adriana, how
Dos't stil Thy Ears stop to my praiers and vowe?
Thou art soe many wayes by Venus grac't
Soe many Cupids Mustring in Thee plac't
As that noe Lillies can more white disclose
Nor fresher Tincture bears the blushing Rose
Than thy cheekes wear: it may be Thou art Coye
For this, Least too much bewty should destroy
Soe wear'st a Vale; the Sun too takes delight
To mask in Clowds some times, t'appeer more bright