To His Coy Love....

I pray thee, leave, love me no more,   

  Call home the heart you gave me!   

I but in vain that saint adore   

  That can but will not save me.   

These poor half-kisses kill me quite— 

  Was ever man thus servèd?   

Amidst an ocean of delight   

  For pleasure to be starvèd?   

  

Show me no more those snowy breasts   

  With azure riverets branchèd,

Where, whilst mine eye with plenty feasts,   

  Yet is my thirst not stanchèd;   

O Tantalus, thy pains ne’er tell!   

  By me thou art prevented:   

‘Tis nothing to be plagued in Hell, 

  But thus in Heaven tormented.   

  

Clip me no more in those dear arms,   

  Nor thy life’s comfort call me,   

O these are but too powerful charms,   

  And do but more enthral me!

But see how patient I am grown   

  In all this coil about thee:   

Come, nice thing, let my heart alone,   

  I cannot live without thee!

by::  Michael Drayton

I Do Not Love Thee....

I do not love thee!—no! I do not love thee!
And yet when thou art absent I am sad;
   And envy even the bright blue sky above thee,
Whose quiet stars may see thee and be glad.

I do not love thee!—yet, I know not why,
Whate’er thou dost seems still well done, to me:
   And often in my solitude I sigh
That those I do love are not more like thee!

I do not love thee!—yet, when thou art gone,
I hate the sound (though those who speak be dear)
   Which breaks the lingering echo of the tone
Thy voice of music leaves upon my ear.

I do not love thee!—yet thy speaking eyes,
With their deep, bright, and most expressive blue,
   Between me and the midnight heaven arise,
Oftener than any eyes I ever knew.

I know I do not love thee! yet, alas!
Others will scarcely trust my candid heart;
   And oft I catch them smiling as they pass,
Because they see me gazing where thou art.


Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton

A Love Song....

What have I to say to you
When we shall meet?
Yet—
I lie here thinking of you.

The stain of love
Is upon the world.
Yellow, yellow, yellow,
It eats into the leaves,
Smears with saffron
The horned branches that lean
Heavily
Against a smooth purple sky.

There is no light—
Only a honey-thick stain
That drips from leaf to leaf
And limb to limb
Spoiling the colours
Of the whole world.

I am alone.
The weight of love
Has buoyed me up
Till my head
Knocks against the sky.

See me!
My hair is dripping with nectar—
Starlings carry it
On their black wings.
See, at last
My arms and my hands
Are lying idle.

How can I tell
If I shall ever love you again
As I do now?



William Carlos Williams, 1883 - 1963

Anna, Thy Charms....

Anna, thy charms my bosom fire,
  And waste my soul with care;
But ah! how bootless to admire,
  When fated to despair!
 
Yet in thy presence, lovely Fair,
  To hope may be forgiven;
For sure ‘twere impious to despair
  So much in sight of heaven.


Robert Burns, 1759 - 1796

I Am Not Yours....

I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.

Oh plunge me deep in love—put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.


Sara Teasdale, 1884 - 1933