love poetry

Mentor

Be warned of steps retrieved in pain.

Pupils

We have strength, we have blood, we are young,

Mentor

Youth sows the links, man wears the chain.

Pupils

Shall a sweet lyric cease to be sung?

Three Students went over the Rhine one day
And to a good Landlady made their way —

" Now Landlady have you good wine and beer,
" And how is your little Daughter dear " ?

" My wine and beer, is fresh and clear
" On her Deathbed lays my Daughter dear. "

And as they into the Chamber stept
In a black coffin they saw she slept.

The first from her face the white veil took
And look'd at her long with a sorrowful look.

" Ah! wer't Thou alive Thou maiden flower

Give me the avowed, erect and manly foe;
Firm I can meet, perhaps return the blow;
But of all plagues, good Heaven, thy wrath can send,
Save me, oh, save me, from the candid friend.
Quoted by Robert Peel in a parliamentary debate, 1845, Canning's words were turned against him in a triumphant rebuttal by Disraeli (Robert Blake, Disraeli [New York: St. Martin's, 1967], p. 185).

The Candid Friend who strikes because he loves,
Should curb his muscles when he plies the gloves.

1.
I have wept and I have sighed;
Chloe will not be my bride.
I have sighed and I have wept,
She hath not her promise kept.

2.

I have grieved and I have mourned;
She hath not my love returned.
I have mourned and I have grieved;
She hath not my pains relieved.

3.

But her pride I'll mortify,
For her love I will not die.
Amaryllis fair I'll wed,
Nor one tear for Chloe shed.

Love builds a nest on earth and waits for rest,
Love sends to heaven the warm heart from its breast,
Looks to be blest and is already blest,
And testifies: " God's Will is alway best. "

Faith and Hope are wings to Love,
Silver wings to golden dove.

Jesus, do I love Thee?
Thou art far above me,
Seated out of sight
Hid in heavenly light
Of most highest height.
Martyred hosts implore Thee,
Seraphs fall before Thee,
Angels and Archangels,
Cherub throngs adore Thee;
Blessed she that bore Thee! —
All the Saints approve Thee,
All the Virgins love Thee.
I show as a blot
Blood hath cleansed not,
As a barren spot
In Thy fruitful lot.
I, figtree fruit-unbearing,
Thou, Righteous Judge unsparing:
What canst Thou do more to me

Lord, whomsoever Thou shalt send to me,
Let that same be
Mine Angel predilect:
Veiled or unveiled, benignant or austere,
Aloof or near;
Thine, therefore mine, elect.

So may my soul nurse patience day by day,
Watch on and pray
Obedient and at peace;
Living a lonely life in hope, in faith;
Loving till death,
When life, not love, shall cease.

. . . . Lo, thou mine Angel with transfigured face
Brimful of grace,
Brimful of love for me!
Did I misdoubt thee all that weary while,

Love doth so grace and dignify
That beggars treat as king with king
Before the Throne of God most High:
Love recognises love's own cry,
And stoops to take love's offering.

A loving heart, tho' soiled and bruised;
A kindling heart, tho' cold before;
Who ever came and was refused
By Love? Do, Lord, as Thou art used
To do, and make me love Thee more.

" Launch out into the deep, " Christ spake of old
To Peter: and he launched into the deep;
Strengthened should tempest wake which lay asleep,
Strengthened to suffer heat or suffer cold.
Thus, in Christ's Prescience: patient to behold
A fall, a rise, a scaling Heaven's high steep;
Prescience of Love, which deigned to overleap
The mire of human errors manifold.
Lord, Lover of Thy Peter, and of him
Beloved with craving of a humbled heart
Which eighteen hundred years have satisfied;
Hath he his throne among Thy Seraphim