In the twilight of beauty thy bathe
In the twilight of beauty thy bathe
Thy slender soul gaunt and grave
With solemn peace thy soul lay
Alive and well between night and day
So gracious thy art to me divine
Everything beautiful and never mine
Subtly pervasive thy cool my fear
As thou art the license in my sultry leer
Dressed in gray, delicate as a dead flower
Thou art the love of my ethereal hour
The love of me my love's name
Gilded by desire and polished in shame
Deceptive and strange thy take my breath
For my love, my love, I love thee to my death
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Related quotes
Requiescat in Pace Terra Amare
Bereft of mine love's grace no earthily love to dole
Dearth is her love to the detriment of mine soul
I'll always gaze at her opaque image and wonder
What love could be like if we not lived asunder
Why my soul mate dared to reject me?
And why was love not woven into my destiny?
My love is a phantom, a mistress I cry to
When love I do not have to sweeten mine rue..
I shan't forsake earthily love, for there never was
Love to forsake; it must be dead, when love doth die?
It must died on thy lips when no love thou spoke
Died on thy heart from the dead thou never awoke.
If thou took thy image of me, and took my image of thee
And sweetly blended, thou would get love, transformed completely
But I'll never know as love never knew me, for my love thou killed
when thou chose me not. Now I won't dream of thee alive
so you can live and taunt me with no love and deprive
thy treacherous soul who mates not with me…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Thou knoweth love not like me
Thou knowth love not like me
Thou whom are beauty bound to grace
And me whom is hideous and ugly
Marred to the soul, marred on my face.
I know love's temptation but loved am not
As thou art loved and love no one
I love love but never felt it, only besought
The love thou have, beloved by all like the sun.
I lament in ugliness and with ugliness alone
As beauteous thee, with love marry
I decay like death, and wither to the bone
Married thou art mythicized into a ferry
Beautiful, angelic, thou know love's power
Ugly and hideous I know love's final hour……
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Intrigue
THOU art my love
And thou art the peace of sundown
When the blue shadows soothe
And the grasses and the leaves sleep
To the song of the little brooks
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art a storm
That breaks black in the sky
And, sweeping headlong,
Drenches and cowers each tree
And at the panting end
There is no sound
Save the melancholy cry of a single owl
Woe is me!
Thou art my love
And thou art a tinsel thing
And I in my play
Broke thee easily
And from the little fragments
Arose my long sorrow
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art a weary violet
Drooping from sun-caresses.
Answering mine carelessly
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art the ashes of other men's love
And I bury my face in these ashes
And I love them
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art the beard
On another man's face
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art a temple
And in this temple is an altar
And on this altar is my heart
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art a wretch.
Let these sacred love-lies choke thee
For I am come to where I know your lies as truth
And your truth as lies
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art a priestess
And in thy hand is a bloody dagger
And my doom comes to me surely
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art a skull with ruby eyes
And I love thee
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And I doubt thee
And if peace came with my murder
Then would I murder
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art death
Aye, thou art death
Black and yet black
But I love thee
I love thee
Woe, welcome woe, to me.
poem by Stephen Crane
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Behind Waves Of Ebony Hair
I see thou changed thy hair color
For his liking and mine despair
To hide thy beauty to mine dolor
Every time I spy at thou there.
I begged thee to never change
A single hair, or who thou art
For I loved thee known and loved thee strange
With all my love, all mine heart.
Thy look so dark with love's desire
Behind thine waves of thine hair ebony
Hiding from him, revealing to me
Thy secret love of thy hidden desire.
Thou still love me then, thou love me so
Still I'll never be loved, for I don't know.
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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To the girl I call thee
Passion's sword cut thy lines for beauty to trace
And beauty did trace with all loves fever
Thou art a woman whose dream is to dream forever
So in other dreams you dream with them too
And make all dreams dreams come true..
Lost for words I'll let love speak
My love for you, my love you make
With passion's sword thy slice my soul
For thou to wear, for love's sake
Two thousand tears for one moment of love
Doth not quench the thirst of my melancholic palette
I love you as next to me I subtly taste
Thy soul, with my soul's love in love chaste
Beauty in my limpid tears, thou love's mirror
In my tears, thou tears do sear
Thy burnt tears emblazon love to me
My beloved, my heart, the girl I call thee
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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The Master Of My Pen, The Author Of My Woe
The master of my pen, the author of my woe
My loves sorrow, my love's flower morose
In my night dreams, in strange light show
An apparition of dead love, her ghastly ghost
O! Love dead! To me thou love still grow
And dampen my dreams, with serious tears
Awakening my unconscious to my conscious flow
Insinuating thy sweet sorrow into my love's fears
Thou art dead, and the sadness I feel
Is the sadness thou art, for thou cannot love me again
For thy hand is as weak as air, thou art not real
Only real in my emotive river, of lasting pain
My love, my love, thou became my love only
For thou art dead and I am sorrowfully lonely…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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The Mother of Beauty and Love
Through thine heart, and times portal,
Thine give me truth and love immortal
No love, if there is love, is like thee
Sometimes I ponder if love is what thou be?
Or if love we did know before was just a charade
A propriety, a clandestine façade
To satiate sinister lust
That infects us…
For when thy walk, thou dance to me
And when thou talk, thou words paint
In my sweet soul of loves immortality
The contours of thy body which hide in my souls eye
thine beauty, mine sadness… should thy beauty die
And thy beauteous soul leave like an autumn tree
All its beauty for my heart to see…
I write this poem to immortality
the mother of love of beauty!
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Sonnet 10: For shame, deny that thou bear'st love to any
For shame, deny that thou bear'st love to any
Who for thy self art so unprovident.
Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many,
But that thou none lov'st is most evident;
For thou art so possessed with murd'rous hate,
That 'gainst thy self thou stick'st not to conspire,
Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate
Which to repair should be thy chief desire.
O, change thy thought, that I may change my mind!
Shall hate be fairer lodged than gentle love?
Be as thy presence is gracious and kind,
Or to thy self at least kind-hearted prove,
Make thee another self, for love of me,
That beauty still may live in thine or thee.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Thine Beauty
I bath myself with thy beauty thine
To conceal myself under thee
Warm flesh molded from beauty divine
Solaces pain that inhabits me
I live for you to live free
Gracious, graceful thy sweetly give
All thine love to live in me
By thine beauty with beauty does my love live
So if thou love me like thou say
Thou know that it's thee
That thy beauty and love doth play
In you and in me
Reflecting always in each other's mind
Thine beauty and love, we doth always find…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Waiting for love
As the heart panteth
After the water brooks
And as the fish
Is always caught by the hook
So my soul panteth after thee
My soul thirsteth for thee
Thou art my love
My true love
When shall i come
And appear before my love
My tears has been my meat
For i cant stand the heat
Whiles they continue to say unto me
Where is your love
When i remember all these things
I pour out my soul in me
For love flew with me
Like a white dove
Why art thou cast down
Oh my soul
Why art thou disquieted in me
Oh my soul
Hope, do not have fear
Wait patiently for her
For she will appear
By; matt ancient
poem by Matt Ancient
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To My Wife
Oft in the night, from this lone room
I long to fly o’er land and sea,
To pierce the dark, dividing gloom,
And join myself to thee.
And thou to me wouldst gladly fly,
I know thee well, my own true wife!
We feel, that when we live not nigh,
We lose the crown of life.
Yet soon I hope, at dead of night,
To meet where all is strange beside,
And mid the train’s resounding flight
To have thee by my side.
Then shall I feel that thou art near,
Joined hand to hand and soul to soul;
Short will that happy night appear,
As through the dark we roll.
Then shall the secret of the will,
That dares not enter into bliss;
That longs for love, yet lingers still,
Be solved in one long kiss.
I, drinking deep of thy rich love,
Thou feeling all the strength of mine,
Our souls will rise in faith above
The cares which make us pine.
Till I give thee, thou giving me,
As that which either loves the best,
To Him that loved us both, that He
May take us to His rest.
Wandering and weak are all our prayers,
And fleeting half the gifts we crave;
Love only, cleansed from sins and cares,
Shall live beyond the grave.
Strengthen our love, O Lord, that we
May in Thine own great love believe
And, opening all our soul to Thee,
May Thy free gift receive.
All powers of mind, all force of will,
May lie in dust when we are dead,
But love is ours, and shall be still,
When earth and seas are fled.
poem by James Clerk Maxwell
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Sonnet 40: Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all
Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all;
What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?
No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;
All mine was thine, before thou hadst this more.
Then if for my love, thou my love receivest,
I cannot blame thee, for my love thou usest;
But yet be blamed, if thou thy self deceivest
By wilful taste of what thy self refusest.
I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief,
Although thou steal thee all my poverty;
And yet love knows it is a greater grief
To bear love's wrong, than hate's known injury.
Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,
Kill me with spites; yet we must not be foes.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Wilt Thou Take Me For Thy Slave?
Wilt thou take me for thy slave,
With my folly and my love?
Wilt thou take me for the bondsman of thy pride?
Thou who dearer art to me than all the world beside;
For I love thee as no other man can love.
Wilt thou take me to thy soul,
For the truth which thou shalt prove?
Wilt thou clothe me with the riches of thy care?
Thou who dearer art to me than gold and jewels rare;
For I love thee as no other man can love.
Wilt thou take me for thy king,
While the sun and stars shall move?
Wilt thou pay me back the homage I have given?
Oh thou dearer unto me than sun and stars and heaven!
For I love thee as no other man can love.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Veiled By The Shadow Of Dark Ebony
The night dreams of stars, as I dream of thee
Illusion unweaves it light and thou come to me
To my tender thought, to mine heart fancy
At night my love thou art all I see
Burning my meditative mood so ravishingly
Soothing me into a deep reverie
As night falls into me
I lose consciousness, only to consciously
Awake to thine voice so sweetly calling me
Imagining beauty as I sleep so peacefully
Beauty believing in me so honestly
Elevating the current of my soul so easily
Love resting inside my motionless body
Moved only by the tender hand of thee
My dream girl veiled by the shadow of ebony
Slight delicate, but dangerously curvy
The ideal of my dreams, most dreamy fantasy
Whose figure outlines the definition of purity
A form of love to fit in me so fittingly
So simple thy stamp thy sentiment so plainly
On my soul for my soul to love finally
Love! Tenderly and happily
Love, the night of love, no matter how vaguely
My dreams paint you my beautiful lady
Veiled by the shadow of dark ebony….
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Spelling LOVE
love you hey
love you from my heart
love you in my soul
love you lead my mind
love you all around
love you near
love you afar
love you with bright eyes
love you in tears
love you laughing
love you with joy
love you full of life
love you in dreams
love you to inspire
love you for peace
love you as mine
love you here
love you for all time
love you believing
love you with passion
love you from desire
love you so true
love you unconditionally
love you loving
love you always
poem by Ange de Lune
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The Grief Of Love
Love, I am sick for thee, sick with an absolute grief,
Sick with the thought of thy eyes and lips and bosom.
All the beauty I saw, I see to my hurt revealed.
All that I felt I feel to--day for my pain and sorrow.
Love, I would fain forget thee, hide thee in deeper night,
Shut thee where no thought is, in the grave with tears.
Love, I would turn my face to the wall and, if needs be, die;
Death less cruel were than thy eyes which have blinded me.
Since thou art gone from me, glory is gone from my life;
Dumb are the woods and streams, and dumb the voice of my soul;
Dead are the flowers we loved, blackened and sere with blight;
Earth is frost--bound under my foot where our footsteps trod.
Give me back for my sorrow the days of senseless peace,
Days when I thought not of thee, or thought in wisdom;
Let me see thee once more as thou to my folly wert,
A woman senseless as sounding brass or as tinkling cymbal.
Why didst thou show me thy heart, which I thought not of?
Why didst thou bare me thy soul, who to me wert soulless?
Why didst thou kiss my mouth, when my mouth did mock?
Why didst thou speak to my lips of love, ere my lips had spoken?
Love, thou hast made me thine, thine, and in my despite,
Laying thy hand on my heart in the soft Spring weather;
Love, thou hast bought my soul at a price, the price of thine,
Never again to mock at love, ah, never, never!
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Fundo
Thou art love's sweet dew which frost mine heart
Dressed in chemise white, love's scintillating tart
My heart blooms into pink lilies fair as thine dew melts
Ores of love from hate for mine heart smelts
Into beautiful, soft, delicate, elegant silk
As pure as light as white as milk
To wrap thee in and love with beauty cherish
In my grasps we melt with love till love doth perish…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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The Death Of The Rose
Ah! life, dear life, thy summer days have flown
Swiftly yet all too late, for they did wither.
Joy should be joy for one short hour alone,
Or it will lose its loveliness for ever.
I did not spare to use the cruel knife,
But cut the rose as soon as it was day,
And gave it to my love. Its little life
Passed, like a sigh, from Nature's breast away.
Full--hearted flower, thou didst not shrink nor flee
When the steel touched thee. No sad memories
Made what thou knew not terrible to thee,
And death came on thee like a sad surprise.
Too happy flower! I would my love had died
At unawares, by such a death as thine.
I should have slain my love in its full pride,
So had it lived and been for ever mine,
A treasure for all joy to ponder on,
Laid up for aye in old Time's palaces,
A ``thing of beauty'' which my soul had won,
And death had made undying with a kiss.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Remembering Your Love
Do I look meagerly for thou art to far from me
Like death took thee too far for mine eyes to see
But thy remembrance in a glance shows thee pure
My memories enhance thy beauty, and mine memory cure
The missing vessel of my love, mine depression of thought
As thou come to me embosomed with the happiness thou brought
Bringing me to an epicenter of love; erupting in joy
Bashful I blush, turn my head, and sweetly coy
To be loved once is to eternally be loved, my love said
The words rang and awoke my ghost from depravity dead
Remembering your love….
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Pensive Thought
Your youthful beauty found peace on your face
As thy wandered the path of love of the past
Effeminate and innocent where love took its place
In the memory of your heart, where your first love last
Pensive thou long in love's sweet air
And think of love inundated in potion
Thy look so grave, in its grave thy stare
With all your love, in love's sweet motion
My heart knew then, that thou heart I wear
The look of my love, forever and soft
When thou pensively dream with out a care
My love raises with thou pensive thought aloft
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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