Love Poems

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My love is as a fever, longing still
For that which longer nurseth the disease,
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
Th’ uncertain sickly appetite to please.
My reason, the physician to my love,
Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
Hath left me, and I desperate now approve
Desire is death, which physic did except.
– William Shakespeare

Wild nights
Wild nights! Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile the winds
To a heart in port,
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.
Rowing in Eden!
Ah! the sea!
Might I but moor
To-night in thee!
– By Emily Dickinson

One Day I Wrote her Name
One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
But came the waves and washed it away:
Again I wrote it with a second hand,
But came the tide, and made my pains his prey.
“Vain man,” said she, “that dost in vain assay,
A mortal thing so to immortalize;
For I myself shall like to this decay,
And eke my name be wiped out likewise.”
“Not so,” (quod I) “let baser things devise
To die in dust, but you shall live by fame:
My verse your vertues rare shall eternize,
And in the heavens write your glorious name:
Where whenas death shall all the world subdue,
Our love shall live, and later life renew.”
– By Edmund Spenser

Surprised
Surprised by joy—impatient as the Wind
I turned to share the transport—Oh! with whom
But Thee, long buried in the silent Tomb,
That spot which no vicissitude can find?
Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind
But how could I forget thee?—Through what power,
Even for the least division of an hour,
Have I been so beguiled as to be blind
To my most grievous loss!—That thought’s return
Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore,
Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,
Knowing my heart’s best treasure was no more;
That neither present time, nor years unborn
Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.
– By William Wordsworth

Who Said That Love Was Fire?
Who said that love was fire?
I know that love is ash.
It is the thing which remains
When the fire is spent,
The holy essence of experience.
– By Patience Worth

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
– By Elizabeth Barrett Browning

When You Are Old
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
– William Butler Yeats

We Are Made One with What We Touch and See
We shall be notes in that great Symphony
Whose cadence circles through the rhythmic spheres,
And all the live World’s throbbing heart shall be
One with our heart, the stealthy creeping years
Have lost their terrors now, we shall not die,
The Universe itself shall be our Immortality!
– By Oscar Wilde

Our Love
If I had the words to describe my feelings for you
I would be the happiest man in the universe
But words seem to fail me time and time again
So I have to settle for the words in this verse
Your touch, your smile, your presence and soul
Mesmerize and entangle me completely
If I had but one ambition, one utter goal
It would be to stay by your side for eternity
– By John P

Bright star
Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art–
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors–
No–yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever–or else swoon to death.
– By John Keats

My love is like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June :
My love is like the melody
That’s sweetly played in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in love am I:
And I will love thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun :
And I will love thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only love,
And fare thee weel a while!
And I will come again, my love,
Thou’ it were ten thousand mile.
– By Robert Burns

I Love You
I love your lips when they’re wet with wine
And red with a wild desire;
I love your eyes when the lovelight lies
Lit with a passionate fire.
I love your arms when the warm white flesh
Touches mine in a fond embrace;
I love your hair when the strands enmesh
Your kisses against my face.
Not for me the cold, calm kiss
Of a virgin’s bloodless love;
Not for me the saint’s white bliss,
Nor the heart of a spotless dove.
But give me the love that so freely gives
And laughs at the whole world’s blame,
With your body so young and warm in my arms,
It sets my poor heart aflame.
So kiss me sweet with your warm wet mouth,
Still fragrant with ruby wine,
And say with a fervor born of the South
That your body and soul are mine.
Clasp me close in your warm young arms,
While the pale stars shine above,
And we’ll live our whole young lives away
In the joys of a living love.
– By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

That I did always love
That I did always love
I bring thee Proof
That till I loved
I never lived-Enough-
That I shall love alway-
I argue thee
That love is life-
And life hath Immortality-
This-dost thou doubt-Sweet-
Then have I
Nothing to show
But Calvary-
– By Emily Dickenson

She Walks in Beauty
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
– By Lord Byron

Come! O come, my life’s delight
Come! O come, my life’s delight!
Let me not in languour pine!
Love loves no delay; thy sight,
The more delayed, the more divine!
O come, and take from me
The pain of being deprived of thee!
Thou all sweetness dost enclose!
Like a little world of bliss:
Beauty guards thy looks. The rose
In them, pure and eternal is.
Come then! and make thy flight
As swift to me, as heavenly light!
– By T. Campion

If I had the words to describe my feelings for you
I would be the happiest man in the universe
But words seem to fail me time and time again
So I have to settle for the words in this verse
Your touch, your smile, your presence and soul
Mesmerize and entangle me completely
If I had but one ambition, one utter goal
It would be to stay by your side for eternity
-By John P

Love’s Language
How does Love speak?
In the faint flush upon the telltale cheek,
And in the pallor that succeeds it; by
The quivering lid of an averted eye
The smile that proves the parent to a sigh
Thus doth Love speak.
How does Love speak?
By the uneven heart-throbs, and the freak
Of bounding pulses that stand still and ache,
While new emotions, like strange barges, make
Along vein-channels their disturbing course;
Still as the dawn, and with the dawn’s swift force
Thus doth Love speak.
How does Love speak?
In the avoidance of that which we seek
The sudden silence and reserve when near
The eye that glistens with an unshed tear
The joy that seems the counterpart of fear,
As the alarmed heart leaps in the breast,
And knows, and names, and greets its godlike guest
Thus doth Love speak.
How does Love speak?
In the proud spirit suddenly grown meek
The haughty heart grown humble; in the tender
And unnamed light that floods the world with splendor;
In the resemblance which the fond eyes trace
In all fair things to one beloved face;
In the shy touch of hands that thrill and tremble;
In looks and lips that can no more dissemble
Thus doth Love speak.
How does Love speak?
In the wild words that uttered seem so weak
They shrink ashamed in silence; in the fire
Glance strikes with glance, swift flashing high and higher,
Like lightnings that precede the mighty storm;
In the deep, soulful stillness; in the warm,
Impassioned tide that sweeps through throbbing veins,
Between the shores of keen delights and pains;
In the embrace where madness melts in bliss,
And in the convulsive rapture of a kiss
Thus doth Love speak.
– By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I Carry Your Heart With Me
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
– By E.E. Cummings

What is that thing that is called love?:
What is that thing that is called love?
Some people believe it is a gift from above
Others say it brings nothing but pain
Maybe it is a one way train
When you take your path
You could never go back again
It may take you to the happiness door
Or maybe make you taste life’s sore!
Maybe love is just like the rain
You never know how hard it would be
Or how long it would last
Love could come so fast
I mean love from the first sight
Or it could take so long time
to be meant to be.. to be so right
Love could put you into darkness
And could bring you the brightest light!
Love is like the fire
Such a mysterious desire
But weather it is going to warm your heart
Or burn your home
You can never forsee it from the start
You can never tell
If It is going to lead you to heavens
Or is it going to lead you to hell!
Love could take you from the cold
And make you feel so warm
Love is like a rose
Beautiful but also with thorns that could harm!
Love could be like glass
If you dropp it, it shatters
And never be put completly back together
But love can also be like porceline
Never cracks & stays forever
It is so strange
How could such a small word hold so many contradictories? !
A small word but with so many question marks
It is such a complicated feeling
That confuses any human being!
As for me.. I’m just a young little girl
Trying to know what is love? !
Simply for me
Love is like a white dove
Flying so high
Up.. Up in the baby blue sky
So far for me to reach
But If I only understand it
To the whole world I would teach
Love is so precious
Love is a treasure
Love is not cheap
Love is when you can’t fall asleep
For reality is better than dreams
And life is sweeter than it seams
Love comes from the heart
Not the brain
You don’t know when it starts
You don’t think about it
You just feel it over and over again
Love is not Just the saying of words
But the giving of one self
Love is caring
Love is daring
And most of All
Love is sharing
Love is not to live in fears
Love is not a matter of counting years
But making the years count
Love is
Telling, listening, understanding,
Respecting the truth and never pretending
True love does NOT have a happy ending!
True love does NOT have an ending!
Love.. some say it is blind
But I say
Love gives you a third eye
To make it easy for you to find
Who is worthy? ! !
By – Cole Albert Porter

To My Dear and Loving Husband
If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were loved by wife, then thee;
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me ye women if you can.
I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold, Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that Rivers cannot quench,
Nor aught but love from thee, give recompence.
Thy love is such I can no way repay,
The heavens reward thee manifold I pray.
Then while we live, in love lets so persever,
That when we live no more, we may live ever.
– Anne Bradstreet

This feeling is like a wonderful sting.
I want this feeling to hold me captive.
I wouldn’t give this up, not even for all four seasons to be spring.
It doesn’t need to be masked as attractive,
This unstable beautiful pain is mine, its what I want, what I need!
– David P. Leverett

Destiny
Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours
For one lone soul another lonely soul
Each choosing each through all the weary hours
And meeting strangely at one sudden goal
The blend they, like green leaves with golden flowers
Into one beautiful and perfect whole;
And life’s long night is ended, and the way
Lies open onward to eternal day.
– By Edwin Arnold

Sylvia
The Nymph that undoes me, is fair and unkind;
No less than a wonder by Nature designed.
She’s the grief of my heart, the joy of my eye;
And the cause of a flame that never can die!
Her mouth, from whence wit still obligingly flows,
Has the beautiful blush, and the smell, of the rose.
Love and Destiny both attend on her will;
She wounds with a look; with a frown, she can kill!
The desperate Lover can hope no redress;
Where Beauty and Rigour are both in excess!
In Sylvia they meet; so unhappy am I!
Who sees her, must love; and who loves her, must die!
– By George Etherege

To Celia
Drink to me only with thine eyes
And I will pledge with mine.
Or leave a kiss but in the cup
And I’ll not look for wine.
The thirst that from the soul doth rise
Doth ask a drink divine;
But might I of Jove’s nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.
I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much hon’ring thee As giving it a hope that there
It could not withered be;
But thou thereon did’st only breathe,
And sent’st it back to me,
Since when it grows and smells, I swear
Not of itself, but thee.
– By Ben Jonson

To Jane
The keen stars were twinkling,
And the fair moon was rising among them,
Dear Jane.
The guitar was tinkling,
But the notes were not sweet till you sung them
Again.
As the moon’s soft splendour
O’er the faint cold starlight of Heaven
Is thrown,
So your voice most tender
To the strings without soul had then given
Its own.
The stars will awaken,
Though the moon sleep a full hour later
To-night;
No leaf will be shaken
Whilst the dews of your melody scatter
Delight.
Though the sound overpowers,
Sing again, with your dear voice revealing
A tone
Of some world far from ours,
Where music and moonlight and feeling
Are one.
– By Percy Bysshe Shelley

Unending Love
I seem to have loved you in numberless forms,
numberless times
In life after life,
in age after age, forever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, it’s age old pain,
It’s ancient tale of being apart or together.
As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,
Clad in the light of a pole-star, piercing the darkness of time.
You become an image of what is remembered forever.
You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount.
At the heart of time, love of one for another.
We have played along side millions of lovers,
Shared in the same shy sweetness of meeting,
the distressful tears of farewell,
Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever.
Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you
The love of all man’s days both past and forever:
Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life.
The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours
And the songs of every poet past and forever.
– By Rabindranath Tagore