Summer in England, 1914
On London fell a clearer light;
Caressing pencils of the sun
Defined the distances, the white
Houses transfigured one by one,
The 'long, unlovely street' impearled.
O what a sky has walked the world!
Most happy year! And out of town
The hay was prosperous, and the wheat;
The silken harvest climbed the down:
Moon after moon was heavenly-sweet,
Stroking the bread within the sheaves,
Looking 'twixt apples and their leaves.
And while this rose made round her cup,
The armies died convulsed. And when
This chaste young silver sun went up
Softly, a thousand shattered men,
One wet corruption, heaped the plain,
After a league-long throb of pain.
Flower following tender flower; and birds,
And berries; and benignant skies
Made thrive the serried flocks and herds. --
Yonder are men shot through the eyes.
Love, hide thy face
From man's unpardonable race.
Who said 'No man hath greater love than this,
To die to serve his friend'?
So these have loved us all unto the end.
Chide thou no more, O thou unsacrificed!
The soldier dying dies upon a kiss,
The very kiss of Christ.
poem by Alice Meynell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A Night In June
Lady! in this night of June
Fair like thee and holy,
Art thou gazing at the moon
That is rising slowly?
I am gazing on her now:
Something tells me, so art thou.
Night hath been when thou and I
Side by side were sitting,
Watching o'er the moonlit sky
Fleecy cloudlets flitting.
Close our hands were linkèd then;
When will they be linked again?
What to me the starlight still,
Or the moonbeams' splendour,
If I do not feel the thrill
Of thy fingers slender?
Summer nights in vain are clear,
If thy footstep be not near.
Roses slumbering in their sheaths
O'er my threshold clamber,
And the honeysuckle wreathes
Its translucent amber
Round the gables of my home:
How is it thou dost not come?
If thou camest, rose on rose
From its sleep would waken;
From each flower and leaf that blows
Spices would be shaken;
Floating down from star and tree,
Dreamy perfumes welcome thee.
I would lead thee where the leaves
In the moon-rays glisten;
And, where shadows fall in sheaves,
We would lean and listen
For the song of that sweet bird
That in April nights is heard.
And when weary lids would close,
And thy head was drooping,
Then, like dew that steeps the rose,
O'er thy languor stooping,
I would, till I woke a sigh,
Kiss thy sweet lips silently.
I would give thee all I own,
All thou hast would borrow;
I from thee would keep alone
Fear and doubt and sorrow.
All of tender that is mine,
Should most tenderly be thine.
Moonlight! into other skies,
I beseech thee wander.
Cruel, thus to mock mine eyes,
Idle, thus to squander
Love's own light on this dark spot;-
For my lady cometh not!
poem by Alfred Austin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Meeting In Winter
Winter in the world it is,
Round about the unhoped kiss
Whose dream I long have sorrowed o’er;
Round about the longing sore,
That the touch of thee shall turn
Into joy too deep to burn.
Round thine eyes and round thy mouth
Passeth no murmur of the south,
When my lips a little while
Leave thy quivering tender smile,
As we twain, hand holding hand,
Once again together stand.
Sweet is that, as all is sweet;
For the white drift shalt thou meet,
Kind and cold-cheeked and mine own,
Wrapped about with deep-furred gown
In the broad-wheeled chariot:
Then the north shall spare us not;
The wide-reaching waste of snow
Wilder, lonelier yet shall grow
As the reddened sun falls down.
But the warders of the town,
When they flash the torches out
O’er the snow amid their doubt,
And their eyes at last behold
Thy red-litten hair of gold;
Shall they open, or in fear
Cry, “Alas! What cometh here?
Whence hath come this Heavenly
To tell of all the world undone?”
They shall open, and we shall see
The long street litten scantily
By the long stream of light before
The guest-hall’s half-open door;
And our horses’ bells shall cease
As we reach the place of peace;
Thou shalt tremble, as at last
The worn threshold is o’er-past,
And the fire-light blindeth thee:
Trembling shalt thou cling to me
As the sleepy merchants stare
At thy cold hands slim and fair,
Thy soft eyes and happy lips
Worth all lading of their ships.
O my love, how sweet and sweet
That first kissing of thy feet,
When the fire is sunk alow,
And the hall made empty now
Groweth solemn, dim and vast!
O my love, the night shall last
Longer than men tell thereof
Laden with our lonely love!
poem by William Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sacred Love
Take off those working clothes
Put on these high heeled shoes
Don't want no preacher on the TV baby
Don't want to hear the news
Shut out the world behind us
Put on your long black dress
No one's ever gonna find us here
Just leave your hair in a mess
I've been searching long enough
I begged the moon and the stars above
For sacred love
I've been up, I've been down
I've been lonesome, in this godless town
You're my religion, you're my church
You're the holy grail at the end of my search
Have I been down on my knees for long enough?
I've been searching the planet to find
Sacred love
The spirit moves on the water
She takes the shape of this heavenly daughter
She's rising up like a river in flood
The word got made into flesh and blood
The sky grew dark, and the earth she shook
Just like a prophecy in the Holy Book
Thou shalt not covet, thou shalt not steal
Thou shalt not doubt that this love is real
So I got down on my knees and I prayed to the skies
When I looked up could I trust my eyes?
All the saints and angels and the stars up above
They all bowed down to the flower of creation
Every man every woman
Every race every nation
It all comes down to this
Sacred love
Don't need no doctor, don't need no pills
I got a cure for the country's ills
Here she comes like a river in flood
The word got made into flesh and blood
Thou shalt not steal, thou shalt not kill
But if you don't love her your best friend will
All the saints up in heaven and the stars up above
It all comes down, it all comes down
It all comes down to love,
Take off your working clothes
Put on your long black dress
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Banquet Of Love
I once heard these words in a song;
'You must remember this...a kiss is
just a kiss...a sigh is just a sigh, ' etc.
With you...nothing...nothing, could be
further from the truth.
Your kiss, is a ride among the stars,
a shower of moon beams and a
sailboat ride, in the Garden Of Eden.
Kissing you...is an out of body experience,
a transport to paradise and a creation
of ultimate passion and joy.
Kissing, every part of who you are, is
truly a banquet of love.
Let me feast of your love and of your lips,
for I am in love with you. Let me always
kiss your mouth...eyes...all of you.
Let us ride the feathers of angels, through
starlit nights-holding...kissing, for now...
and evermore.
Your kiss...touch...embrace, has captured
my heart...my very soul.
I send you this kiss...for the lips
I can not do without.
*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss *..........Kiss*
*Kiss*......Kiss*
*Kiss*.. .*Kiss*
*Kiss*.*Kiss*
*Kiss*......*Kiss*
*Kiss*........*Kiss*
*Kiss*............*Kiss*
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.........* Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
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.........*Kis s*
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..... ....*Kiss*
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.....*Kiss*....*Kiss*
..*Kiss*....... .*Kiss*
..*Kiss*........*Kiss*
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..... .....*Kiss
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.....*Kiss *....*Kiss*
..*Kiss*........*Kiss*
..*Kiss* ........*Kiss*
.....*Kiss*
...........*Kiss *
.*Kiss*.......*Kiss*
.Kiss*.......*Kiss*
..*Kiss*.....*Kiss*
..........*Kiss
To kiss you...love you...has made my
life worthwhile. Has given meaning, to
each day I live.
A day without your kiss, is as a day
without sunshine. Just the thought
of you, gladdens my heart.
*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss*. .........Kiss*
*Kiss*......Kiss*
*Kiss*...* Kiss*
*Kiss*.*Kiss*
*Kiss*......*Kiss*
* Kiss*........*Kiss*
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.........*Ki ss*
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.........*Kiss*.*Kiss*.......*Kiss*
.Kiss*.......*Kiss*
..*Kiss*.....*Kiss*
..........*Kiss
ONE LAST KISS, FOR ALL THAT YOU ARE.
FOR ALL THAT YOU DO.
WHY DO I LOVE YOU?
BECAUSE...YOU ARE YOU.
YOU ARE MY WORLD. MY LOVE.
*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss*.. ........Kiss*
*Kiss*......Kiss*
*Kiss*...*K iss*
*Kiss*.*Kiss*
*Kiss*......*Kiss*
*K iss*........*Kiss*
*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss*...............*Kiss*
.........*Kis s*
.........*Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
..... ....*Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
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.........*Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
........ .*Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
............*Ki ss*
.....*Kiss*....*Kiss*
..*Kiss*........* Kiss*
..*Kiss*........*Kiss*
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..*Kiss*.....*Kiss*
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..*Kiss*........*Kiss*
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..*Kiss*.....*Kiss*
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Kisses For You...
I once heard these words in a song;
'You must remember this...a kiss is
just a kiss...a sigh is just a sigh, ' etc.
With you...nothing...nothing, could be
further from the truth.
Your kiss, is a ride among the stars,
a shower of moon beams and a
sailboat ride, in the Garden Of Eden.
Kissing you...is an out of body experience,
a transport to paradise and a creation
of ultimate passion and joy.
Kissing, every part of who you are, is
truly a banquet of love.
Let me feast of your love and of your lips,
for I am in love with you. Let me always
kiss your mouth...eyes...all of you.
Let us ride the feathers of angels, through
starlit nights-holding...kissing, for now...
and evermore.
Your kiss...touch...embrace, has captured
my heart...my very soul.
I send you this kiss...for the lips
I can not do without.
*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss *..........Kiss*
*Kiss*......Kiss*
*Kiss*.. .*Kiss*
*Kiss*.*Kiss*
*Kiss*......*Kiss*
*Kiss*........*Kiss*
*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss*...............*Kiss*
.........* Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
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.........*Kiss*
.........*Kis s*
.........*Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
..... ....*Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
...........* Kiss*
.....*Kiss*....*Kiss*
..*Kiss*....... .*Kiss*
..*Kiss*........*Kiss*
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..*Kiss*.....*Kiss*
..... .....*Kiss
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.....*Kiss *....*Kiss*
..*Kiss*........*Kiss*
..*Kiss* ........*Kiss*
.....*Kiss*
...........*Kiss *
.*Kiss*.......*Kiss*
.Kiss*.......*Kiss*
..*Kiss*.....*Kiss*
..........*Kiss
To kiss you...love you...has made my
life worthwhile. Has given meaning, to
each day I live.
A day without your kiss, is as a day
without sunshine. Just the thought
of you, gladdens my heart.
*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss*. .........Kiss*
*Kiss*......Kiss*
*Kiss*...* Kiss*
*Kiss*.*Kiss*
*Kiss*......*Kiss*
* Kiss*........*Kiss*
*Kiss*............*Kiss**Kiss*...............*Kiss*
.........*Ki ss*
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.....*Kiss*
.........*Kiss*.*Kiss*.......*Kiss*
.Kiss*.......*Kiss*
..*Kiss*.....*Kiss*
..........*Kiss
ONE LAST KISS, FOR ALL THAT YOU ARE.
FOR ALL THAT YOU DO.
WHY DO I LOVE YOU?
BECAUSE...YOU ARE YOU.
YOU ARE MY WORLD. MY LOVE.
*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss*.. ........Kiss*
*Kiss*......Kiss*
*Kiss*...*K iss*
*Kiss*.*Kiss*
*Kiss*......*Kiss*
*K iss*........*Kiss*
*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss*...............*Kiss*
.........*Kis s*
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..*Kiss*.....*Kiss*
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Fragoletta
O LOVE! what shall be said of thee?
The son of grief begot by joy?
Being sightless, wilt thou see?
Being sexless, wilt thou be
Maiden or boy?
I dreamed of strange lips yesterday
And cheeks wherein the ambiguous blood
Was like a rose’s—yea,
A rose’s when it lay
Within the bud.
What fields have bred thee, or what groves
Concealed thee, O mysterious flower,
O double rose of Love’s,
With leaves that lure the doves
From bud to bower?
I dare not kiss it, lest my lip
Press harder than an indrawn breath,
And all the sweet life slip
Forth, and the sweet leaves drip,
Bloodlike, in death.
O sole desire of my delight!
O sole delight of my desire!
Mine eyelids and eyesight
Feed on thee day and night
Like lips of fire.
Lean back thy throat of carven pearl,
Let thy mouth murmur like the dove’s;
Say, Venus hath no girl,
No front of female curl,
Among her Loves.
Thy sweet low bosom, thy close hair,
Thy strait soft flanks and slenderer feet,
Thy virginal strange air,
Are these not over fair
For Love to greet?
How should he greet thee? what new name,
Fit to move all men’s hearts, could move
Thee, deaf to love or shame,
Love’s sister, by the same
Mother as Love?
Ah sweet, the maiden’s mouth is cold,
Her breast-blossoms are simply red,
Her hair mere brown or gold,
Fold over simple fold
Binding her head.
Thy mouth is made of fire and wine,
Thy barren bosom takes my kiss
And turns my soul to thine
And turns thy lip to mine,
And mine it is.
Thou hast a serpent in thine hair,
In all the curls that close and cling;
And ah, thy breast-flower!
Ah love, thy mouth too fair
To kiss and sting!
Cleave to me, love me, kiss mine eyes,
Satiate thy lips with loving me;
Nay, for thou shalt not rise;
Lie still as Love that dies
For love of thee.
Mine arms are close about thine head,
My lips are fervent on thy face,
And where my kiss hath fed
Thy flower-like blood leaps red
To the kissed place.
O bitterness of things too sweet!
O broken singing of the dove!
Love’s wings are over fleet,
And like the panther’s feet
The feet of Love.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To June. Written After An Ungenial May
I'll heed no more the poet's lay-
His false-fond song shall charm no more-
My heart henceforth shall but adore
The real, not the misnamed May.
Too long I've knelt, and vainly hung
My offerings round an empty name;
O May! thou canst not be the same
As once thou wert when Earth was young.
Thou canst not be the same to-day-
The poet's dream-the lover's joy:-
The floral heaven of girl and boy
Were heaven no more, if thou wert May.
If thou wert May, then May is cold,
And, oh! how changed from what she has been-
Then barren boughs are bright with green,
And leaden skies are glad with gold.
And the dark clouds that veiled thy moon
Were silvery-threaded tissues bright,
Looping the locks of amber light
That float but on the airs of June.
O June! thou art the real May;
Thy name is soft and sweet as hers
But rich blood thy bosom stirs,
Her marble cheek cannot display.
She cometh like a haughty girl,
So conscious of her beauty's power,
She now will wear nor gem nor flower
Upon her pallid breast of pearl.
And her green silken summer dress,
So simply flower'd in white and gold,
She scorns to let our eyes behold,
But hides through very wilfulness:
Hides it 'neath ermined robes, which she
Hath borrowed from some wintry quean,
Instead of dancing on the green-
A village maiden fair and free.
Oh! we have spoiled her with our praise,
And made her froward, false, and vain;
So that her cold blue eyes disdain
To smile as in the earlier days.
Let her beware-the world full soon
Like me shall tearless turn away,
And woo, instead of thine, O May!
The brown, bright, joyous eyes of June.
O June! forgive the long delay,
My heart's deceptive dream is o'er-
Where I believe I will adore,
Nor worship June, yet kneel to May.
poem by Denis Florence MacCarthy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Astrophel And Stella-Sonnet XXXI
With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies!
How silently, and with how wan a face!
What! may it be that even in heavenly place
That busy archer his sharp arrows tries?
Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes
Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case:
I read it in thy looks; thy languished grace,
To me that feel the like, thy state descries.
Then even of fellowship, O Moon, tell me,
Is constant love deemed there but want of wit?
Are beauties there as proud as here they be?
Do they above love to be loved, and yet
Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess?
Do they call virtue there ungratefulness?
poem by Philip Sidney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Harvest
So there's my year, the twelvemonth duly told
Since last I climbed this brow and gloated round
Upon the lands heaped with their wheaten gold,
And now again they spread with wealth imbrowned -
And thriftless I meanwhile,
What honeycombs have I to take, what sheaves to pile?
I see some shrivelled fruits upon my tree,
And gladly would self-kindness feign them sweet;
The bloom smelled heavenly, can these stragglers be
The fruit of that bright birth and this wry wheat,
Can this be from those spires
Which I, or fancy, saw leap to the spring sun's fires?
I peer, I count, but anxious is not rich,
My harvest is not come, the weeds run high;
Even poison-berries, ramping from the ditch
Have stormed the undefended ridges by;
What Michaelmas is mine!
The fields I sought to serve, for sturdier tilage pine.
But hush - Earth's valleys sweet in leisure lie;
And I among them wandering up and down
Will taste their berries, like the bird or fly,
And of their gleanings make both feast and crown.
The Sun's eye laughing looks.
And Earth accuses none that goes among her stooks.
poem by Edmund Blunden
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To The Sad Moon
With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies!
How silently, and with how wan a face!
What! May it be that even in heavenly place
That busy archer his sharp arrows tries?
Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes
Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case:
I read it in thy looks; thy languished grace
To me, that feel the like, thy state descries.
Then, even of fellowship, O Moon, tell me,
Is constant love deemed there but want of wit?
Are beauties there as proud as here they be?
Do they above love to be loved, and yet
Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess?
Do they call 'virtue' there— ungratefulness?
poem by Philip Sidney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet III: With how sad steps
With how sad steps, O moon, thou climb'st the skies!
How silently, and with how wan a face!
What! may it be that even in heavenly place
That busy archer his sharp arrows tries?
Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes
Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case:
I read it in thy looks; thy languished grace
To me, that feel the like, thy state descries.
Then, even of fellowship, O Moon, tell me,
Is constant love deemed there but want of wit?
Are beauties there as proud as here they be?
Do they above love to be loved, and yet
Those lovers scorn whoom that love doth possess?
Do they call 'virtue' there - ungratefulness?
poem by Philip Sidney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Little Kiss
Just one more kiss Plant it softly on my cheek
Bring me to my knees
Please baby
Make me forget
Make me erase
The thoughts
Of pain
Make me forget
The thoughts of my last breath
...One more kiss
Place it gently on my lips
Make me forget
With a loved filled kiss
All the things that I miss
I find it all in just one little kiss
One more kiss
place it tenderly upon me
as the tears roll down
for once i am happy
never felt like this before
you walked through my door
what made it happen
in just one little kiss
i fell in love
and in each little kiss
I fall more in love with you
so give me one more little kiss...
poem by Kylee Church
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The New Moon
What have you got in your knapsack fair,
White moon, bright moon, pearling the air,
Spinning your bobbins and fabrics free,
Fleet moon, sweet moon, in to the sea?
Turquoise and beryl and rings of gold,
Clear moon, dear moon, ne’er to be sold?
Roses and lilies, romance and love,
Still moon, chill moon, swinging above?
Slender your feet as a white birds throat,
High moon, shy moon, drifting your boat
Into the murk of the world awhile,
Slim moon, dim moon, adding a smile.
Tender your eyes as a maiden’s kiss,
Fine moon, wine moon, no one knows this,
Under the spell of your witchery,
Dream moon, cream moon, first he kissed me.
poem by Zora Bernice May Cross
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Premonition
'Twas a year ago and the moon was bright
(Oh, I remember so well, so well);
I walked with my love in a sea of light,
And the voice of my sweet was a silver bell.
And sudden the moon grew strangely dull,
And sudden my love had taken wing;
I looked on the face of a grinning skull,
I strained to my heart a ghastly thing.
'Twas but fantasy, for my love lay still
In my arms, with her tender eyes aglow,
And she wondered why my lips were chill,
Why I was silent and kissed her so.
A year has gone and the moon is bright,
A gibbous moon, like a ghost of woe;
I sit by a new-made grave to-night,
And my heart is broken -- it's strange, you know.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A flower to kiss
Aflower to kiss,
the flower yet to be flowering
So cute but not yet cluttering
in the bowl, the flower is the sent
The yet beautiful but greatly cute
The flower, flowering a glory
Then, now the smell is the scent
Glory, glory is the name
The rose flower standing amiss
The rose flower that tantalises
In the midst of the green garden
Such a light in the natural eyes
The golden eyes sparkling
In the flower, so flowered
In the flower, yet to kiss
So eyes get the truth
In the flower of the days
Each day, tomorrow and yet to reborn
The world flower, flowered, flowering
And the flower, flowered yet to kiss
poem by Paul Mwenelupembe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love’s Harvest
Nay, do not quarrel with the seasons, dear,
Nor make an enemy of friendly Time.
The fruit and foliage of the failing year
Rival the buds and blossoms of its prime.
Is not the harvest moon as round and bright
As that to which the nightingales did sing?
And thou, that call'st thyself my satellite,
Wilt seem in Autumn all thou art in Spring.
When steadfast sunshine follows fitful rain,
And gleams the sickle where once passed the plough,
Since tender green hath grown to mellow grain,
Love then will gather what it scattereth now,
And, like contented reaper, rest its head
Upon the sheaves itself hath harvested.
poem by Alfred Austin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kiss Me Everything! ! !
Kiss me heart and said i'love you.
Kiss me from warm your eyes rays and said all better.
Kiss me from your sweet lips i'was everything.
Kiss me from your desire was embrace by you.i'was passing yearning fogs.
Kiss me with your soft face the angel gave peace on my heart.
Kiss me the rainbow gave the colour to illustrate my dreams.
Kiss me my blue clouds will lie down all tired i'to you.
Kiss me the green leaves penetrating freshness bellows of the heart and mind.
Kiss me the wind-the blowing wind continued the long breath in the life.
Kiss me the wave of the birds wings in the branch, stamped the love and the spirit.
Kiss me the flower and was kissed by me again went through the sun and the rain.
Kiss me the river gave my warm regards to the ocean.
Kiss me the nature said to my heart sweetheart.
I kissed him through all
the life breath in the world.
Song VII: Dawn Talks to Day
Dawn talks to Day
Over dew-gleaming flowers,
Night flies away
Till the resting of hours:
Fresh are thy feet
And with dreams thine eyes glistening,
Thy still lips are sweet
Though the world is a-listening.
O Love, set a word in my mouth for our meeting,
Cast thine arms round about me to stay my heart's beating!
O fresh day, O fair day, O long day made ours!
Morn shall meet noon
While the flower-stems yet move,
Though the wind dieth soon
And the clouds fade above.
Loved lips are thine
As I tremble and hearken;
Bright thine eyes shine,
Though the leaves thy brow darken.
O Love, kiss me into silence, lest no word avail me,
Stay my head with thy bosom lest breath and life fail me!
O sweet day, O rich day, made long for our love!
Late day shall greet eve,
And the full blossoms shake,
For the wind will not leave
The tall trees while they wake.
Eyes soft with bliss,
Come nigher and nigher!
Sweet mouth I kiss,
Tell me all thy desire!
Let us speak, love, together some words of our story,
That our lips as they part may remember the glory!
O soft day, O calm day, made clear for our sake!
Eve shall kiss night,
And the leaves stir like rain
As the wind stealeth light
O'er the grass of the plain.
Unseen are thine eyes
Mid the dreamy night's sleeping,
And on my mouth there lies
The dear rain of thy weeping.
Hold silence, love, speak not of the sweet day departed,
Cling close to me, love, lest I waken sad-hearted!
O kind day, O dear day, short day, come again!
poem by William Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Lady's Cruelty
WITH how sad steps, O moon, thou climb'st the skies!
How silently, and with how wan a face!
What! may it be that even in heavenly place
That busy archer his sharp arrows tries?
Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes
Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case:
I read it in thy looks; thy languish'd grace
To me, that feel the like, thy state descries.
Then, even of fellowship, O Moon, tell me,
Is constant love deem'd there but want of wit?
Are beauties there as proud as here they be?
Do they above love to be loved, and yet
Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess?
Do they call 'virtue' there--ungratefulness?
poem by Philip Sidney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All White
All white, all light, all beautiful she stands,
Love in her eyes, a glory round her brows,
Blanched as the lilies chaste in her chaste hands.
Even so God's saints in their celestial house.
Red only are her lips, ay, red as those
Turned by the Queen, that happy day in France,
As yet unkissed, to him who made his vows,
Victor in fight, to her his soul's romance.
Idly she stands in dreams.--Ah, Launcelot,
Couldst thou but plead here haply and prevail,
Touch her soft cheek, draw tears from her sweet eyes,
Open her lips to passionate words unwise,
Receive her true kiss 'neath thy coat of mail:
In Love's name, I who love, should grudge it not.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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