Poems love poems love poetry foundation poem 2023

 Poems love poems poetry foundation poem 2023

We are having a large collection of Love Poetry and love shayari in hindi,love poetry images,love shayari in urdu,Love Poetry in English,Love Poetry for girlfriend,love poem for her,love  poem for him,romantic love poem which you can use for your whats app, Facebook and other social network status. Also you can find here all type of GF and BF English poetry with images. This portal provide you the best and the latest collection of all Love Poetry with images and quotes. This collection of latest Poetry is perfect for anyone who is looking for latest Poetry.

In this site you will find original poems, beautiful, romantic and sentimental, with lots of love and beautiful images to give and share with your loved ones, on your social networks and even WhatsApp.

 love poems for her

If thou be in a lonely place,
If one hour's calm be thine,
As Evening bends her placid face
O'er this sweet day's decline;
If all the earth and all the heaven
Now look serene to thee,
As o'er them shuts the summer even,
One moment - think of me!

Pause, in the lane, returning home;
'Tia dusk, it will be still:
Pause near the elm, a sacred gloom
Its breeze less boughs will fill.
Look at that soft and golden light,
High in the unclouded sky;
Watch the last bird's belated flight,
As it flits silent by.

Hark! for a sound upon the wind,
A step, a voice, a sigh;
If all be still, then yield thy mind,
Unchecked, to memory.
If thy love were like mine, how bleat
That twilight hour would seem,
When, back from the regretted Past,
Returned our early dream!

If thy love were like mine, how wild
Thy longings, even to pain,
For sunset soft, and moonlight mild,
To bring that hour again!
But oft, when in thine arms I lay,
I've seen thy dark eyes shine,
And deeply felt their changeling ray
Spoke other love than mine.

My love is almost anguish now,
It beats so strong and true;
'Were rapture, could I deem that thou
Such anguish ever knew.
I have been but thy transient flower,
Thou went my god divine;
Till checked by death's congealing power,
This heart must throb for thine.

And well my dying hour were bleat,
If life's expiring breath
Should pass, as thy lips gently preset
My forehead cold in death;
And sound my sleep would be, and sweet,
Beneath the churchyard tree,
If sometimes in thy heart should beat
One pulse, still true to me.

**************************************************************************************

 

Sit still - a word - a breath may break
(As light airs stir a sleeping lake)
The glassy calm that soothes my woes -
The sweet, the deep, the full repose.
O leave me not! for ever be
Thus, more than life itself to me!

Yes, close beside thee let me kneel -
Give me thy hand, that I may feel
The friend so true - so tried - so dear,
My heart's own chosen - indeed is near;
And check me not - this hour divine
Belongs to me - is fully mine.

'Tia thy own hearth thou visit's beside,
After long absence - wandering wide;
'Tris thy own wife reads in thine eyes
A promise clear of storm less skies;
For faith and true love light the rays
Which shine responsive to her gaze.

At, - well that single tear may fall;
Ten thousand might mine eyes recall,
Which from their lids ran blinding fast,
In hours of grief, yet scarcely past;
Well mayst thou speak of love to me,
For, oh! most truly - I love thee!

Yet smile - for we are happy now.
Whence, then, that sadness on thy brow?
What stays thou? 'We muse once again,
Ere long, be severed by the main!'
I knew not this - I deemed no more
Thy step would err from Britain's shore.

'Duty commands!' 'Tris true - 'tees just;
Thy slightest word I wholly trust,
Nor by request, nor faintest sigh,
Would I to turn thy purpose try;
But, William, hear my solemn vow -
Hear and confirm! - with thee I go.

'Distance and suffering,' didst thou say?
'Danger by night, and toil by day?'
Oh, idle words and vain are these;
Hear me! I cross with thee the seas.
Such risk as thou must meet and dare,
I - thy true wife - will duly share.

Passive, at home, I will not pine;
Thy toils, thy perils shall be mine;
Grant this - and be hereafter paid
By a warm heart's devoted aid:
'Tris granted - with that yielding kiss,
Entered my soul mingled bliss.

Thanks, William, thanks! thy love has joy,
Pure, undefined with base alloy;
'Tris not a passion, false and blind,
Inspires, enchains, absorbs my mind;
Worthy, I feel, art thou to be
Loved with my perfect energy.

This evening now shall sweetly flow,
Lit by our clear fire's happy glow;
And parting's peace-embittering fear,
Is warned our hearts to come not near;
For fate admits my soul's decree,
In bliss or bale - to go with thee!

**************************************************************************************

 

What is she writing? Watch her now,
How fast her fingers move!
How eagerly her youthful brow
Is bent in thought above!
Her long curls, drooping, shade the light,
She puts them quick aside,
Nor knows that band of crystals bright,
Her hasty touch untied.
It slips a down her silken dress,
Falls glittering at her feet;
Unmarked it falls, for she no less
Pursues her labor sweet.

The very loveliest hour that shines,
Is in that deep blue sky;
The golden sun of June declines,
It has not caught her eye.
The cheerful lawn, and unclouded gate,
The white road, far away,
In vain for her light footsteps wait,
She comes not forth to-day.
There is an open door of glass
Close by that lady's chair,
From thence, to slopes of messy grass,
Descends a marble stair.

Tall plants of bright and spicy bloom
Around the threshold grow;
Their leaves and blossoms shade the room
From that sun's deepening glow.
Why does she not a moment glance
Between the clustering flowers,
And mark in heaven the radiant dance
Of evening's rosy hours?
O look again! Still fixed her eye,
Unsmiling, earnest, still,
And fast her pen and fingers fly,
Urged by her eager will.

Her soul is in absorbing task;
To whom, then, doth she write?
Nay, watch her still more closely, ask
Her own eyes' serious light;
Where do they turn, as now her pen
Hangs o'er distinguished line?
Whence fell the tearful gleam that then
Did in their dark spheres shine?
The summer-parkour looks so dark,
When from that sky you turn,
And from expanse of that green park,
You scarce may aught discern.

Yet, o'er the piles of porcelain rare,
O'er flower-stand, couch, and vase,
Sloped, as if leaning on the air,
One picture meets the gaze.
'Tish there she turns; you may not see
Distinct, what form defines
The clouded mass of mystery
Yon broad gold frame confines.
But look again; inured to shade
Your eyes now faintly trace
A stalwart form, a massive head,
A firm, determined face.

Black Spanish locks, a sunburn cheek
A brow high, broad, and white,
Where every furrow seems to speak
Of mind and moral might.
Is that her god? I cannot tell;
Her eye a moment met
Uncomprehending picture, then it fell
Darkened and dimmed and wet.
A moment more, her task is done,
And sealed the letter lies;
And now, towards the setting sun
She turns her tearful eyes.

Those tears flow over, wonder not,
For by the inscription see
In what a strange and distant spot
Her heart of hearts must be!
Three seas and many a league of land
That letter must pass o'er,
Ere read by him to whose loved hand
'Tris sent from England's shore.
Remote colonial wilds detain
Her husband, loved though stern;
She, 'mid that smiling English scene,
Weeps for his wished return.

 *************************************************************************************

 

Canst thou love me, lady?
I've not learned to woo:
Thou art on the shady
Side of sixty too.
Still I love thee dearly!
Thou hast lands and pelf:
But I love thee merely
Merely for thyself.

Wilt thou love me, fairest?
Though thou art not fair;
And I think thou weariest
Someone-else's hair.
Thou couldn't love, though, dearly:
And, as I am told,
Thou art very nearly
Worth thy weight, in gold.

Dost thou love me, sweet love?
Tell me that thou dost!
Women fairly beat one,
But I think thou must.
Thou art loved so dearly:
I am plain, but then
Thou (to speak sincerely)
Art as plain again.

Love me, bashful fairy!
I've an empty purse:
And I've 'moods,' which vary;
Mostly for the worse.
Still, I love thee dearly:
Though I make (I feel)
Love a little queerly,
I'm as true as steel.

Love me, swear to love me
(As, you know, they do)
By yon heaven above me
And its changeless blue.
Love me, lady, dearly,
If you'll be so good;
Though I don't see clearly
On what ground you should.

Love me -- ah or love me
Not, but be my bride!
Do not simply shove me
(So to speak) aside!
Raps it would be dearly
Purchased at the price;
But a hundred yearly
Would be very nice.

 **************************************************************************************

 

Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day;
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Should st rubies find; I by the tide
Of Humbert would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the Flood;
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow.
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.

But at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song; then worms shall try
That long preserved virginity,
And your quaint honor turn to droll enough, and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day;
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Should st rubies find; I by the tide
Of Huber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the Flood;
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow.
An hundred years should gone all
Our sweetness, up into one ball;
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Thorough the iron gates of life.
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.  

We have a great collection of Love Poetry for girlfriend, love shayari in hindi,love poetry images,love shayari in urdu,Love Poetry in English,Love Poetry for girlfriend,love poem for her,love  poem for him,romantic love poem, english romantic sms, lovely romantic status for husband, new romantic Poetry for wife, best romantic sms for boyfriend, latest romantic poetry for her and beautiful Poetry on Romance for him. If these poetry touch your heart, leave comment in comment box. MORE

Post a Comment

0 Comments