Related quotes: Love, dearest Lady, such as...

Love, Dearest Lady, Such As I Would Speak

Love, dearest Lady, such as I would speak,
Lives not within the humor of the eye;—
Not being but an outward phantasy,
That skims the surface of a tinted cheek,—
Else it would wane with beauty, and grow weak,
As if the rose made summer,—and so lie
Amongst the perishable things that die,
Unlike the love which I would give and seek:
Whose health is of no hue—to feel decay
With cheeks' decay, that have a rosy prime.
Love is its own great loveliness alway,
And takes new lustre from the touch of time;
Its bough owns no December and no May,
But bears its blossom into Winter's clime.

poem by Thomas Hood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Related quotes

Fair Flowers

Blossom fair flowers of my fair lady,
The prime time of love is now here to share with her;
For her precious petals are now full of love.
To unfold the truth and to kiss what she has to give to me,
But, i want to spin around the spot of love with pleasure things;
And with the blossom of fair flowers of her love.
Float like a butterfly and sting like a gnat on this muse!
For, i was born to love my fair lady in the ladn of beautiful flowers;
And, behind every great vision, there is a positive realm.
To cry at birth and to cry when you are older,
over the clouds of love and with the beauty of the rainbow around;
But this parasie of love is for my fair lady and i,
And like the black ribbon up high in the sky! !

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

To a Very Young Lady

Why came I so untimely forth
Into a world which, wanting thee,
Could entertain us with no worth
Or shadow of felicity?
That time should me so far remove
From that which I was born to love.

Yet, fairest blossom, do not slight
That age which you may know so soon;
The rosy morn resigns her light,
And milder glory to the noon:
And then what wonder shall you do,
When dawning beauty warns us so?

Hope waits upon the flowery prime,
And summer, though it be less gay,
Yet is not looked on as a time
Of declination and decay.
For with a full hand that does bring
All that was promised by the spring.

poem by Edmund Waller
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Burdend Black Rose

It's twisted I know
But true
I can only feel love when i'm dreaming it through
While this rose that burdens me
is lying on my chest
I watch as people stare at my lonliness
I sit up stunned as they walk past
Growing fear inside
The red rose wilts as the black rose blooms
Please come back
turn what was once red back again
Take awat this hate that stays,
As the black rose waits in silentness,
as I decay beneath it's beauty,
I need love but I can't feel it,
Won't except it,
I need to open up but the black rose holdsme still
love is what i'll never get,
I know it's twisted but true I can only feel love whrn i'm dreaming it through
The black rose burdens me
until I decay,
\then the black rose turns back to red
to reap me once again
another time left once more among the dead.

poem by Amy Ormonde
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

He That Loves A Rosy Cheek

He that loves a rosy cheek,
Or a coral lip admires,
Or from star-like eyes doth seek
Fuel to maintain his fires:
As old Time makes these decay,
So his flames must waste away.

But a smooth and steadfast mind,
Gentle thoughts, and calm desires,
Hearts with equal love combined,
Kindle never-dying fires:
Where these are not, I despise
Lovely cheeks or lips or eyes.

poem by Thomas Carew
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Lines Written at Thorp Green

That summer sun, whose genial glow
Now cheers my drooping spirit so
Must cold and distant be,
And only light our northern clime
With feeble ray, before the time
I long so much to see.
And this soft whispering breeze that now
So gently cools my fevered brow,
This too, alas, must turn --
To a wild blast whose icy dart
Pierces and chills me to the heart,
Before I cease to mourn.

And these bright flowers I love so well,
Verbena, rose and sweet bluebell,
Must droop and die away.
Those thick green leaves with all their shade
And rustling music, they must fade
And every one decay.

But if the sunny summer time
And woods and meadows in their prime
Are sweet to them that roam --
Far sweeter is the winter bare
With long dark nights and landscapes drear
To them that are at Home!

poem by Anne Brontë
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

To A. L. Persuasions to Love.

THINK not, 'cause men flattering say
You're fresh as April, sweet as May,
Bright as is the morning star,
That you are so ; or, though you are,
Be not therefore proud, and deem
All men unworthy your esteem :
For, being so, you lose the pleasure
Of being fair, since that rich treasure
Of rare beauty and sweet feature
Was bestow'd on you by nature
To be enjoy'd ; and 'twere a sin
There to be scarce, where she hath bin
So prodigal of her best graces.
Thus common beauties and mean faces
Shall have more pastime, and enjoy
The sport you lose by being coy.
Did the thing for which I sue
Only concern myself, not you ;
Were men so framed as they alone
Reap'd all the pleasure, women none ;
Then had you reason to be scant :
But 'twere a madness not to grant
That which affords (if you consent)
To you the giver, more content
Than me, the beggar. Oh, then be
Kind to yourself, if not to me.
Starve not yourself, because you may
Thereby make me pine away ;
Nor let brittle beauty make
You your wiser thoughts forsake ;
For that lovely face will fail.
Beauty's sweet, but beauty's frail,
'Tis sooner past, 'tis sooner done,
Than summer's rain, or winter's sun ;
Most fleeting, when it is most dear,
'Tis gone, while we but say 'tis here.
These curious locks, so aptly twined,
Whose every hair a soul doth bind,
Will change their auburn hue and grow
White and cold as winter's snow.
That eye, which now is Cupid's nest,
Will prove his grave, and all the rest
Will follow ; in the cheek, chin, nose,
Nor lily shall be found, nor rose.
And what will then become of all
Those whom now you servants call ?
Like swallows, when your summer's done,
They'll fly, and seek some warmer sun.
Then wisely choose one to your friend
Whose love may, when your beauties end,
Remain still firm : be provident,
And think, before the summer's spent,
Of following winter ; like the ant,
In plenty hoard for time of scant.
Cull out, amongst the multitude
Of lovers, that seek to intrude
Into your favour, one that may
Love for an age, not for a day ;
One that will quench your youthful fires,
And feed in age your hot desires.
For when the storms of time have moved
Waves on that cheek which was beloved,
When a fair lady's face is pined,
And yellow spread where once red shined ;
When beauty, youth, and all sweets leave her,
Love may return, but lover never :
And old folks say there are no pains
Like itch of love in aged veins.
O love me, then, and now begin it,
Let us not lose this present minute ;
For time and age will work that wrack
Which time or age shall ne'er call back.
The snake each year fresh skin resumes,
And eagles change their aged plumes ;
The faded rose each spring receives
A fresh red tincture on her leaves :
But if your beauties once decay,
You never know a second May.
O then, be wise, and whilst your season
Affords you days for sport, do reason ;
Spend not in vain your life's short hour,
But crop in time your beauty's flower,
Which will away, and doth together
Both bud and fade, both blow and wither.

poem by Thomas Carew
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Merry Christmas, Baby

Christmas is here
We can spend it together
This December twenty-fifth
We will always remember

You're first on my Christmas list this year
To hold you in my arms right here
Unlike other Christmas gifts
Our love cannot be wrapped in a bow
Because as others know
Our love continues to grow and grow

I'll write our names in the snow
With hearts all around
Etched until the snow fades away
Though it melts, our love will stay

I can kiss you under the mistletoe
On your cheek, or on your nose
You're free to kiss me wherever we go

Money is spent on roses and rings
Though they are meaningful things
Words and touch are just as great
Except that they will never break

You are my Christmas wish
My Christmas dream
The perfect gift given to me

I love you with my heart, soul, and all of my life
Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight

poem by Jessica Goudreault
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

After M'lady -1937 - Responsum to Edna St. Vincent Millay I know I am but summer to your heart

Although harsh winter weighs down restless heart,
I know I'm not but cusp, husk for full year.
Warm welcome will expand, dwarf other part,
swing brooding moods to mine shared joys sincere.
No harvest rich with golden fruits to sell
need I, nor wise saws winter hoar may bring -
who loves well Hell defies, time's ebb and swell
weathered, all storms calmed, splices angel wing.
Love therefore says: 'O time suspend thy flows! ',
range changeless and defy fate's hidden drums,
so two true steady stay, thorn shorn from rose,
no far migration, ceaseless summer comes.
No pause, no cause to seek another clime
eternal summer gilding timeless rhyme.

I know I am but summer to your heart,
And not the full four seasons of the year;
And you must welcome from another part
Such noble moods as are not mine, my dear.
No gracious weight of golden fruits to sell
Have I, nor any wise and wintry thing;
And I have loved you all too long and well
To carry still the high sweet breast of Spring.
Wherefore I say: O love, as summer goes,
I must be gone, steal forth with silent drums,
That you may hail anew the bird and rose
When I come back to you, as summer comes.
Else will you seek, at some not distant time,
Even your summer in another clime.
Edna St. Vincent Millay

(12 December 2009)

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I Have Loved You (Strambotto Romagnuolo)

I have loved you during each summer's day,
though age now comes with years far too suddenly
nothing existing can take our feelings away;
in the times of hardship you have been friendly,
have brought light and brightness to every shade,
your beauty comes from the heart and will not fade
its great power springs from love that does not decay;
in winter your smile is like a summer's day

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Last Rose Of Summer

Throughout the soft and timeless days of august
til now the shadows begin to grow much longer
The sunsets fire has deepened blood red
I give you this, the last rose of summer
A token of my unyielding love
So when the winters mantle stills the earth
And all around seems dead and cold
This rose reminds you of a time when all was warm and living
Do not despair, mother nature simply rests
In sleep she has well earned
til one day not so very far from now
With the opening of the first rose buds I shall return
A token of my unyielding love
So that when winters mettle steals the earth
And all around seems dead and cold
This rose reminds you of a time when all was warm and living
The last rose of summer
The last rose of summer
In your long shadows
The last rose of summer
In the sunset
The last rose of summer
Take this rose that I give you
The last rose of summer
The last rose of summer
Dont worry about the winter
The last rose of summer
I shall return
The last rose of summer
The last rose of summer
(fade)

song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!