To Lady Jane
Romance was always young.
You come today
Just eight years old
With marvellous dark hair.
Younger than Dante found you
When you turned
His heart into the way
That found the heavenly stair.
Perhaps we must be strangers.
I confess
My soul this hour is Dante's,
And your care
Should be for dolls
Whose painted hands caress
Your marvellous dark hair.
Romance, with moonflower face
And morning eyes,
And lips whose thread of scarlet prophesies
The canticles of a coming king unknown,
Remember, when you join him
On his throne,
Even me, your far off troubadour,
And wear
For me some trifling rose
Beneath your veil,
Dying a royal death,
Happy and pale,
Choked by the passion,
The wonder and the snare,
The glory and despair
That still will haunt and own
Your marvellous dark hair.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Related quotes
Romance Bore Seduction
Hand blessed hand, caressed.
A blushing rose, her face;
Her breast alive;
The elfin nose, a diamond set -
A kiss upon perfection
Bore a rise of pulse
To coach a sultry moan
Across a mellow breath of wine.
He knew; he sensed,
And easing loose a clasp of lace,
Another sign of her relenting:
Wild the play of eyes,
A fuller glide of skin;
He felt the now begin -
Her swell, intention in the sigh.
And so to hedge his move upon the cue -
The cry of deep anticipation,
Waxing all he saw -
Tho' not for us to view -
Arrived, emotion raw.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Now render to caressing waves of romance
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Scarlet Ribbons
I peeked in to say good-night,
When I heard my child in prayer.
And for me some scarlet ribbons,
Scarlet ribbons for my hair.
All the stores were closed and shuttered,
All the streets were dark and bare.
In our town no scarlet ribbons,
Not one ribbon for her hair.
Thru the night my heart was aching,
Just before the dawn was breaking.
I peeked in and on her bed,
In gay profusion lying there,
Lovely ribbons, scarlet ribbons,
Scarlet ribbons for her hair.
If I live to be a hundred,
I will never know from where.
Came those lovely scarlet ribbons,
Scarlet ribbons for her hair.
Scarlet ribbons- theres magic in the air,
Scarlet, scarlet ribbons for her hair.
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hearts First Word. I.
To sweeten a swift minute so
With such rare fragrance of sweet speech,
And make the after hours go
In a blank yearning each on each ;
To drain the springs till they be dry,
And then in anguish thirst for drink ;
So but to glimpse her robe thirst I,
And my soul hungers and I sink.
There is no word that we have said
Whereby the lips and heart arc fire;
No look the linked glances read
That held the springs of deep desire.
And yet the sounds her glad lips gave
Are on my soul vibrating still ;
Her eyes that swept me as a wave
Shine my soul's worship to fulfil.
Her hair, her eyes, her throat and chin-
Sweet hair, sweet eyes, sweet throat, so sweet,
So fair because the ways of sin
Have never known her perfect feet-
By what far ways and marvellous
May I such lovely heaven reach ?
What dread, dark seas and perilous
Lie 'twist love's silence and love's speech?
poem by Isaac Rosenberg
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Beginning, The
Some day I shall rise and leave my friends
And seek you again through the world's far ends,
You whom I found so fair
(Touch of your hands and smell of your hair!),
My only god in the days that were.
My eager feet shall find you again,
Though the sullen years and the mark of pain
Have changed you wholly; for I shall know
(How could I forget having loved you so?),
In the sad half-light of evening,
The face that was all my sunrising.
So then at the ends of the earth I'll stand
And hold you fiercely by either hand,
And seeing your age and ashen hair
I'll curse the thing that once you were,
Because it is changed and pale and old
(Lips that were scarlet, hair that was gold!),
And I loved you before you were old and wise,
When the flame of youth was strong in your eyes,
-- And my heart is sick with memories.
poem by Rupert Brooke
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The Beginning
Some day I shall rise and leave my friends
And seek you again through the world's far ends,
You whom I found so fair
(Touch of your hands and smell of your hair!),
My only god in the days that were.
My eager feet shall find you again,
Though the sullen years and the mark of pain
Have changed you wholly; for I shall know
(How could I forget having loved you so?),
In the sad half-light of evening,
The face that was all my sunrising.
So then at the ends of the earth I'll stand
And hold you fiercely by either hand,
And seeing your age and ashen hair
I'll curse the thing that once you were,
Because it is changed and pale and old
(Lips that were scarlet, hair that was gold!),
And I loved you before you were old and wise,
When the flame of youth was strong in your eyes,
- And my heart is sick with memories.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1906)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sonnet LXXVIII: Body's Beauty
Of Adam's first wife, Lilith, it is told
(The witch he loved before the gift of Eve,)
That, ere the snake's, her sweet tongue could deceive,
And her enchanted hair was the first gold.
And still she sits, young while the earth is old,
And, subtly of herself contemplative,
Draws men to watch the bright web she can weave,
Till heart and body and life are in its hold.
The rose and poppy are her flowers; for where
Is he not found, O Lilith, whom shed scent
And soft-shed kisses and soft sleep shall snare?
Lo! as that youth's eyes burned at thine, so went
Thy spell through him, and left his straight neck bent
And round his heart one strangling golden hair.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Scarlet Ribbons
(jack segal/evelyn danzig)
I peeped in to say good night
When i heard my child in prayer
"send for me, some scarlet ribbons
Scarlet ribbons for my hair"
All the stores were closed and shuttered
All the streets were dark and bare
In my town no scarlet ribbons
Scarlet ribbons for her hair
Through the night my heart was aching
Just before the dawn was breaking
I peeped in and on her bed
In gay profusion lying there
Lovely ribbons, scarlet ribbons
Scarlet ribbons for her hair
If i live to be a hundred
I will never know from where
Came those lovely scarlet ribbons
Scarlet ribbons for her hair
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Romance In The Dark
Sam coslow / g. nelsen
Romance in the dark with you
All at once I knew
Darlin love was near
I thrill to my finger tips
I could feel your lips
Darlin oh so near
The music was so entrancing
The lights all began to fade
I said to myself keep dancing
But only my heart obeyed
A flame grew from just a spark
When I found romance in the dark with you
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let Romance Be Romance (from, The Songsters Lyrics)
Let romance be romance
Every dark night be morning
And love our 2nd chance
In love's ever turning
From its doubling dear
Giving so much and close
Just by heaving you here
Like sweet morning rose
Every day is to be fine
Coming in for a kiss
When there's rising sunshine
With everything there is
Love falling younger
Into everything sung
Every day so much longer
In the summer's tongue
Rising and energizing
In new dreams of creation
Imaginations beauty stylizing
With romancing gradation
Love songs to do and give
Feeling of desiring long
This around now to live
In anew found around song
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Shadows are my sun
Ive fallen in a hole
so deep, dark and cold
No one is there
no one to hold
My eyes are bloodstained
tears and they fall to my
lips
My plams are scratched with
blood, it trickles to my
fingertips
My blood is cold and my veins
are ice and my hair is dark
dark like night
I sit in a dark corner
shadows are my sun
I fare myself,
what have i done
I pick up a mirror
but fail to look
I will only see an unknown
place so i put down,
myself i cannot face.
poem by Nicole Buckland
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I Am Not Alone
I know I am not alone
There is a witness in my heart
His manifest prescence are obvious
His hosts are around me
Teleguiding every move I made
He is always there with me
When I stumbles
He bears me up
I am hemed before and behind
By his cords of defence
He is my impregnable fortress
That never break ranks
He is always with me
He perceives my thought
He knows my desires
He lightens my dark paths
And prevents me from blindness
He knows me in and out
My creator is my companion
My steps are teleguided by him
Before my words are uttered
He knows and answers ahead
His banal over me is awesome
What a marvellous companion!
My wisdom, knowledge, prosperity
Joy, peace, health and uncountable blessings
Are generously donated from his throne
What will I render to Him
He is just too marvellous
His companionship is incomprehensible
poem by Babatunde Aremu
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Haven of Romance
Romance
came at morning
love story without end
we stole a kiss by the river
the haven of love way down in the glen
soprano voices came hither
ecstasy lingered then
with the bliss of
romance.
Only a shy young maiden was I
how could my heart ever know
that love was steadily seeping
into the innocence of my soul?
Romance
came with glory
love's fable now I pen
we fell in love one September
at a haven of love way down in the glen
your kind caress I remember
I was eager to dance
on wings of true
Romance.
poem by Drania Haplern
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Haven Of Love
Romance
came at morning
love story without end
we stole a kiss by the river
the haven of love way down in the glen
soprano voices came hither
ecstasy lingered then
with the bliss of
romance.
Only a shy young maiden was I
how could my heart ever know
that love was steadily seeping
into the innocence of my soul?
Romance
came with glory
love's fable now I pen
we fell in love one September
at a haven of love way down in the glen
your kind caress I remember
I was eager to dance
on wings of true
Romance.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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In The Dark, Painted Pink
eyes blazing in the dark
do not be slumbered
by sleek black hair
and soft touching
of breath from
ripened lips of red
eyes blazing in the dark
do not fall into sleep's abyss
as gentle touch
fingers promises on brow
with polished nails
pointed painted pink
eyes blazing in the dark
do not drift in dreams
of allures sweet scent
such intoxicates
and dims the wit
of weary men
eyes blazing in the dark
look into souls
and reflect
what is within;
eyes blazing in the dark
poem by David Taylor
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He Wore Dark Sun glasses
The sun it was not shining and dark gray were the skies
Yet he wore dark sun glasses for to conceal his eyes
From the gaze of other people what was he trying to hide
Since to the mirror of his soul daylight he had denied.
Or maybe his eyes are sensitive to light so dark glasses at all times he must wear
Since seeing one wearing dark glasses on a cloudy morning is quite rare
In sunny weather many wear dark glasses to save their eyes from the sun's glare
On bright and warm Summer days of the sun one must beware.
This morning in the wind and rain it did seem strange to me
A young man wearing dark sun glasses out walking I did see
On such an overcast day sunglasses did seem out of place
If you cannot see a person's eyes you cannot memorize their face.
He may have eyes sensitive to light and have to wear dark glasses every day
But when I said hello to him he had nothing to say
If you cannot see a person's eyes to you that person a stranger remain
And I would not recognize his face were I to see him again.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Mary Magdalene
While the dark night folds around me
I wait on Thee,
who could speak
and sent the storm
back into the sea.
At times I wonder where my love
for Thee started,
or was I made with it,
that Though dark brown eyes
could know the dark depths of my heart
and could touch like no other
and could heal me
and make me completely free from all sin
and I was happy.
With every stroke that the hammer makes
against the cross of wood
and every nail that tears
right through Thy body,
I knew pain
like never before
and in my soul
the dark depths died
with Thy death
At a time even my pomegranate red lips
and round full breasts
made no impression on Thee
and Thy holiness
and unconditional love
touched deep into my heart,
so that I washed Thy feet
with ointment of nard
and in humility used my hair
to dry the feet
of the Son of God.
While the morning sun
rises red on the horizon
I wait on Thee,
to come back to this earth
as king and supreme Lord.
poem by Gert Strydom
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XXXVI Life-In-Love
Not in thy body is thy life at all
But in this lady's lips and hands and eyes;
Through these she yields thee life that vivifies
What else were sorrow's servant and death's thrall.
Look on thyself without her, and recall
The waste remembrance and forlorn surmise
That liv'd but in a dead-drawn breath of sighs
O'er vanish'd hours and hours eventual.
Even so much life hath the poor tress of hair
Which, stor'd apart, is all love hath to show
For heart-beats and for fire-heats long ago;
Even so much life endures unknown, even where,
'Mid change the changeless night environeth,
Lies all that golden hair undimm'd in death.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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The House of the Life: 36. Life-in-Love
Not in thy body is thy life at all
But in this lady's lips and hands and eyes;
Through these she yields thee life that vivifies
What else were sorrow's servant and death's thrall.
Look on thyself without her, and recall
The waste remembrance and forlorn surmise
That liv'd but in a dead-drawn breath of sighs
O'er vanish'd hours and hours eventual.
Even so much life hath the poor tress of hair
Which, stor'd apart, is all love hath to show
For heart-beats and for fire-heats long ago;
Even so much life endures unknown, even where,
'Mid change the changeless night environeth,
Lies all that golden hair undimm'd in death.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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A Wayside Queen
She was born in the season of fire,
When a mantle of murkiness lay
On the front of the crimson Destroyer:
And none knew the name of her sire
But the woman; and she, ashen grey,
In the fierce pangs of motherhood lay.
The skies were aflame at her coming
With a marvellous message of ill;
And fear-stricken pinions were drumming
The hot, heavy air, whence the humming
Of insects rose, sudden and shrill,
As they fled from that hell-begirt hill.
Then the smoke-serpent writhed in her tresses:
The flame kissed her hard on the lips:
She smiled at their ardent caresses
As the wanton who smiles, but represses
A lover's hot haste, and so slips
From the arm that would girdle her hips.
Such the time of her coming and fashion:
How long ere her day shall be sped,
And she goes to rekindle past passion
With languorous glances that flash on
The long-straightened limbs of the dead,
Where they lie in a winter-wet bed?
Where the wide waves of evergreen carry
The song sad and soft of the surge
To feathered battalions that harry
The wizen-armed bloodwoods that tarry
For ever, chained down on the verge
Of a river that mutters a dirge.
'Tis a dirge for the dead men it mutters—
Those weed-entwined strangers who lie
With the drift in the whirlpools and gutters—
Swoll'n hand or a garment that flutters
Wan shreds as the waters rush by,
And the flotsam, froth-freckled, rides high.
Is it there that she buries her lovers,
This woman in scarlet and black?
Those swart caballeros, the drovers—
What sovranty set they above hers?
Riding in by a drought-beset track
To a fate which is worse than the rack.
A queen, no insignia she weareth
Save the dark, lustrous crown of her hair:
Her beauty the sceptre she beareth:
For men and their miseries careth
As little as tigresses care
For the quivering flesh that they tear.
She is sweet as white peppermint flowers,
And harsh as red gum when it drips
From the heart of a hardwood that towers
Straight up: she hath marvellous powers
To draw a man's soul through his lips
With a kiss like the stinging of whips.
Warm nights, weighted down with wild laughter,
When sex is unsexed and uncouth:
In the chorus that climbs to the rafter
No thought of the days to come after:
She has little regret and less ruth
As she tempts men to murder their youth.
Is she marked down as yet by the flaming
Great eye of the Righter of Wrong?
How long ere the Dreaded One, claiming
His due, shall make end of our shaming?
‘How long, Mighty Father, how long?'
Is our wearisome burden of song.
A queen, no insignia she weareth
Save the dark, lustrous crown of her hair:
Her beauty the sceptre she beareth:
For men and their miseries careth
As little as tigresses care
For the quivering flesh that they tear.
She is sweet as white peppermint flowers,
And harsh as red gum when it drips
From the heart of a hardwood that towers
Straight up: she hath marvellous powers
To draw a man's soul through his lips
With a kiss like the stinging of whips.
Warm nights, weighted down with wild laughter,
When sex is unsexed and uncouth:
In the chorus that climbs to the rafter
No thought of the days to come after:
She has little regret and less ruth
As she tempts men to murder their youth.
Is she marked down as yet by the flaming
Great eye of the Righter of Wrong?
How long ere the Dreaded One, claiming
His due, shall make end of our shaming?
‘How long, Mighty Father, how long?'
Is our wearisome burden of song.
poem by Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
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Take Care, Take Care
Bind up, bind up your dark bright hair
And hide the smouldering sunken fire.
Let it be held no more than fair,
Nor yourself guess how rare, how rare
Its movement, colour and deep fire.
Your eyes they have their consciousness,
Your lips their grave reflective smile,
Your hands their cunning for distress:
Your hair has only beauteousness
And hid flame for its only guile.
That glowing hair on shoulders white
Is pride past sum: take care, take care!
Even to dream of wish'd delight
Too much perturbs the ebb of night--
Bind up, bind up your burning hair!
poem by John Freeman
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