What poets say about love
part 9
What a sweet reverence is that when a young man deems his mistress a little more than mortal and almost chides himself for longing to bring her close to his heart.
Hawthorne—The Marble Faun. Vol. II. Ch. XV. 141
Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth.
Hebrews. XII. 6. 142
Du bist wie eine Blume, so hold, so sch?n und rein;
Ich shau’ dich an und Wehmut schleicht mir ins Herz hinein.
Oh fair, oh sweet and holy as dew at morning tide,
I gaze on thee, and yearnings, sad in my bosom hide.
Heine—Du bist wie eine Blume. 143
Es ist eine alte Geschichte,
Doch bleibt sie immer neu.
It is an ancient story
Yet is it ever new.
Heine—Lyrisches Intermezzo. 39. 144
And once again we plighted our troth,
And titter’d, caress’d, kiss’d so dearly.
Heine—Youthful Sorrows. No. 57. St. 2. 145
Alas! for love, if thou art all,
And nought beyond, O earth.
Felicia D. Hemans—The Graves of a Household. 146
Open your heart and take us in,
Love—love and me.
W. E. Henley—Rhymes and Rhythms. V. 147
Love your neighbor, yet pull not down your hedge.
Herbert—Jacula Prudentum. 148
No, not Jove
Himselfe, at one time, can be wise and love.
Herrick—Hesperides. To Silvia. 149
You say to me-wards your affection’s strong;
Pray love me little, so you love me long.
Herrick—Love me Little, Love me Long. 150
There is a lady sweet and kind,
Was never face so pleased my mind;
I did but see her passing by,
And yet I love her till I die.
Ascribed to Herrick in the Scottish Student’s Song-Book. Found on back of leaf 53 of Popish Kingdome or reigne of Antichrist, in Latin verse by Thomas Naogeorgus, and Englished by Barnabe Googe. Printed 1570. See Notes and Queries. S. IX. X. 427. Lines from Elizabethan Song-books. Bullen. P. 31. Reprinted from Thomas Ford’s Music of Sundry Kinds. (1607). 151
Bid me to live, and I will live
Thy Protestant to be:
Or bid me love, and I will give
A loving heart to thee,
A heart as soft, a heart as kind,
A heart as sound and free
As in the whole world thou canst find,
That heart I’ll give to thee.
Herrick—To Anthea, who may command him anything. No. 268. 152
They do not love that do not show their love.
Heywood—Proverbs. Pt. II. Ch. IX. 153
Let never man be bold enough to say,
Thus, and no farther shall my passion stray:
The first crime, past, compels us into more,
And guilt grows fate, that was but choice, before.
Aaron Hill—Athelwold. Act V. Sc. The Garden. 154
To love is to know the sacrifices which eternity exacts from life.
John Oliver Hobbes—School for Saints. Ch. XXV. 155
O, love, love, love!
Love is like a dizziness;
It winna let a poor body
Gang about his biziness!
Hogg—Love is like a Dizziness. L. 9. 156
Cupid “the little greatest enemy.”
Holmes—Professor at the Breakfast Table. 157
Soft is the breath of a maiden’s Yes:
Not the light gossamer stirs with less;
But never a cable that holds so fast
Through all the battles of wave and blast.
Holmes—Songs of Many Seasons. Dorothy. II. St. 7. 158
Who love too much, hate in the like extreme.
Homer—Odyssey. Bk. XV. L. 79. Pope’s trans. 159
For love deceives the best of woman kind.
Homer—Odyssey. Bk. XV. L. 463. Pope’s trans. 160
Si sine amore, jocisque
Nil est jucundum, vivas in amore jocisque.
If nothing is delightful without love and jokes, then live in love and jokes.
Horace—Epistles. I. 6. 65. 161
What’s our baggage? Only vows,
Happiness, and all our care,
And the flower that sweetly shows
Nestling lightly in your hair.
Victor Hugo—Eviradnus. XI. 162
If you become a Nun, dear,
The bishop Love will be;
The Cupids every one, dear!
Will chant—‘We trust in thee!’
Leigh Hunt—The Nun. 163
From henceforth thou shalt learn that there is love
To long for, pureness to desire, a mount
Of consecration it were good to scale.
Jean Ingelow—A Parson’s Letter to a Young Poet. Pt. II. L. 55. 164
That divine swoon.
Ingersoll—Orthodoxy. Works. Vol. II. P. 420. 165
But great loves, to the last, have pulses red;
All great loves that have ever died dropped dead.
Helen Hunt Jackson—Dropped Dead. 166
Love has a tide!
Helen Hunt Jackson—Tides. 167
When love is at its best, one loves
So much that he cannot forget.
Helen Hunt Jackson—Two Truths. 168
Love’s like the flies, and, drawing-room or garret, goes all over a house.
Douglas Jerrold—Jerrold’s Wit. Love. 169
Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.
John. XV. 13. 170
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WRITTEN WHILE SAILING IN A BOAT AT EVENING
What poets say about love: part 5
What poets say about love: part 6
