Love still has something of the sea,
From whence his Mother rose;
No time his slaves from love can free,
Nor give their thoughts repose.
They are becalmed in clearest days,
And in rough weather tost;
They wither under cold delays,
Or are in tempests lost.
One while they seem to touch the port,
Then straight...
From the Italian by John Edward Taylor
IF it be true that any beauteous thing
Raises the pure and just desire of man
From earth to God, the eternal fount of all,
Such I believe my love; for as in her
So fair, in whom I all besides forget,
I view the gentle work of her Creator,
I have no care for any other thing,
Whilst thus I love...
Muses, that sing Love’s sensual empirie,
And lovers kindling your enragèd fires
At Cupid’s bonfires burning in the eye,
Blown with the empty breath of vain desires;
You, that prefer the painted cabinet
Before the wealthy jewels it doth store ye,
That all your joys in dying figures set,
And stain the living substance of your glory;...
Because I breathe not love to everie one,
Nor do not use set colors for to weare,
Nor nourish special locks of vowèd haire,
Nor give each speech a full point of a groane,—
The courtlie nymphs, acquainted with the moane
Of them who on their lips Love’s standard beare,
“What! he?” say they of me. “Now I dare sweare
He cannot love:...
Some find Love late, some find him soon,
Some with the rose in May,
Some with the nightingale in June,
And some when skies are gray;
Love comes to some with smiling eyes,
And comes with tears to some;
For some Love sings, for some Love sighs,
For some Love’s lips are dumb.
How will you come to me, fair Love?
Will...
Why came the rose? Because the sun, in shining,
Found in the mold some atoms rare and fine:
And, stooping, drew and warmed them into growing,—
Dust, with the spirit’s mystic countersign.
What made the perfume? All his wondrous kisses
Fell on the sweet red mouth, till, lost to sight,
The love became too exquisite, and vanished
...
Love knoweth every form of air,
And every shape of earth,
And comes, unbidden, everywhere,
Like thought’s mysterious birth.
The moonlit sea and the sunset sky
Are written with Love’s words,
And you hear his voice unceasingly,
Like song, in the time of birds.
He peeps into the warrior’s heart
From the tip of a...
There were three maidens who loved a king;
They sat together beside the sea;
One cried, “I love him, and I would die
If but for one day he might love me!”
The second whispered, “And I would die
To gladden his life, or make him great.”
The third one spoke not, but gazed afar
With dreamy eyes that were sad as Fate.
The...
From “The Mountain of the Lovers”
LOVE scorns degrees; the low he lifteth high,
The high he draweth down to that fair plain
Whereon, in his divine equality,
Two loving hearts may meet, nor meet in vain;
’Gainst such sweet levelling Custom cries amain,
But o’er its harshest utterance one bland sigh,
Breathed passion-wise, doth mount...
Love not me for comely grace,
For my pleasing eye or face,
Nor for any outward part,
No, nor for my constant heart;
For those may fail or turn to ill,
So thou and I shall sever;
Keep therefore a true woman’s eye,
And love me still, but know not why.
So hast thou the same reason still
To dote upon me ever.
