I know a sweet suburban girl, She’s witty, bright and brief; With dimples in her cheeks; and pearl In rubies set, for teeth. Beneath her glossy raven hair There beams the hazel eye, Bright as the star of evening there Where the yellow sunbeams die. Her breath is like a
Hey, rose, just born Twin to a thorn; Was’t so with you, O Love and Scorn? Sweet eyes that smiled, Now wet and wild: O Eye and Tear- mother and child. Well: Love and Pain Be kinfolks twain; Yet would, Oh would I could Love again. ~ Sidney Lanier (1842-1881)
Love seeketh not itself to please, Nor for itself hath any care; But for another gives its ease, And builds a Heaven in Hell’s despair. So sang a little Clod of Clay, Trodden with the cattle’s feet; But a Pebble of the brook, Warbled out these metres meet: Love seeketh
Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering
A glimpse through an interstice caught, Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room around the stove late of a winter night, and I unremark’d seated in a corner, Of a youth who loves me and whom I love, silently approaching and seating himself near, that he may
I loved you first: but afterwards your love Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove. Which owes the other most? my love was long, And yours one moment seemed to wax more strong; I loved and guessed at you, you construed me
An elegy of a pointed diamond given by the author to his wife at the birth of his eldest son Dear, I to thee this diamond commend, In which a model of thyself I send. How just unto thy joints this circlet sitteth, So just thy face and shape my
In summer’s heat and mid-time of the day To rest my limbs upon a bed I lay, One window shut, the other open stood, Which gave such light, as twinkles in a wood, Like twilight glimpse at setting of the sun, Or night being past, and yet not day begun.