A Red, Red Rose

Robert Burns

O my Luve’s like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve’s like the melodie
That’s sweetly played in tune.
 
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve 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;
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
 
And fare thee weel, my only Luve,
And fare thee weel awhile!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho’ it ware ten thousand mile.

 

She Walks In Beauty

Lord Byron

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!

 

Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer’s Day?

William Shakespeare

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course untrimmed.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;
Nor shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

 

The Passionate Shepherd to His Love

Christopher Marlowe

Come live with me and be my love, 
And we will all the pleasures prove 
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields, 
Woods or steepy mountain yields. 

 

And we will sit upon the rocks, 
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks, 
By shallow rivers to whose falls 
Melodious birds sing madrigals. 

 

And I will make thee beds of roses 
And a thousand fragrant posies, 
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle 
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle; 

 

A gown made of the finest wool 
Which from our pretty lambs we pull; 
Fair lined slippers for the cold, 
With buckles of th purest gold; 

 

A belt of straw and ivy buds, 
With coral clasps and amber studs: 
And if these pleasures may thee move, 
Come live with me and be my love. 

 

The shepherds’ swains shall dance and sing 
For thy delight each May morning: 
If these delights thy mind may move, 
Then live with me and be my love.

 

How Do I Love Thee?

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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 everyday’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 thee with the 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.

  One Response to “Some Poetry for Valentine’s Day”

  1. may I add one?….

    Walking down to water’s edge
    on weathered, planked paths
    whose repairs have
    long been forgotten
    by what coastal caretaker;
    passing by bleached clams
    and memories of crabs
    devastated by greedy gulls;
    I gaze across the sea,
    missing you, at sunrise.

    There is no end,
    and where does it begin?
    Where are the fountains
    that forever feed it?
    How is it that it finds its limits,
    dissipating its force at my feet?
    We stand at each other’s boundaries
    and rage against one another,
    maddened by what unseen conflict
    deep within ourselves.
    All are stayed and driven to hide.
    I alone stand in its fury,
    missing you.

    And then while I slept,
    there at the edge
    of your intended caress,
    for what may have been one hour,
    or one week, or one lifetime,
    the sea calmed itself
    with the envy of my peace,
    only when I sleep;
    as an unsung lullaby
    which only it can hear.
    And we slept together
    in our deferred dreams,
    missing you, at sunset.
    ~fb

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