Poems

Because She Would Ask Me Why I Loved Her

by Christopher Brennan (1870-1932).

• If questioning would make us wise No eyes would ever gaze in eyes;If all our tale were told in speechNo mouths would wander each to each.

Were spirits free from mortal meshAnd love not bound in hearts of fleshNo aching breasts would yearn to meetAnd find their ecstasy complete.

For who is there that lives and knowsThe secret powers by which he grows?Were knowledge all, what were our needTo thrill and faint and sweetly bleed?

Then seek not, sweet, the "If" and "Why"I love you now until I die.For I must love because I liveAnd life in me is what you give.

The Clod and the Pebble

by William Blake (1757-1827).

• Love seeketh not Itself to please,Nor for itself hath any care;But for another gives its ease,And builds a Heaven in Hells 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 only Self to please,

To bind another to Its delight:Joys in anothers loss of ease,And builds a Hell in Heavens despite.

Song of Secret Love

by John Clare (1793-1864)

• I hid my love when young while ICouldn't bear the buzzing of a flyI hid my love to my despiteTill I could not bear to look at lightI dare not gaze upon her faceBut left her memory in each placeWhere ere I saw a wild flower lieI kissed and bade my love goodbye

I met her in the greenest dellsWhere dew drops pearl the wood bluebellsThe lost breeze kissed her bright blue eyeThe bee kissed and went singing byA sunbeam found a passage thereA gold chain round her neck so fairAs secret as the wild bee's songShe lay there all the summer long

I hid my love in field and townTill e'en the breeze would knock me down

The bees seemed singing ballads l'erThe fly's buss turned a Lion's roarAnd even silence found a tongueTo haunt me all the summer longThe riddle nature could not proveWas nothing else but secret love

Wondrous Moment

by Alexander Pushkin

• The wondrous moment of our meeting . . .

I well remember you appear Before me like a vision fleeting, A beauty's angel pure and clear.

In hopeless ennui surrounding The worldly bustle, to my ear For long your tender voice kept sounding, For long in dreams came features dear.

Time passed. Unruly storms confounded Old dreams, and I from year to year Forgot how tender you had sounded, Your heavenly features once so dear.

My backwoods days dragged slow and quiet —Dull fence around, dark vault above —Devoid of God and uninspired, Devoid of tears, of fire, of love.

Sleep from my soul began retreating, And here you once again appear Before me like a vision fleeting, A beauty's angel pure and clear.

In ecstasy the heart is beating, Old joys for it anew revive; Inspired and God-filled, it is greeting The fire, and tears, and love alive.

There is a Lady Sweet and Kind

by Thomas Ford

• There is a lady sweet and kind, Was never a face so pleased my mind;I did but see her passing by, And yet I'll love her till I die.

Her gesture, motion, and her smiles,Her wit, her voice my heart beguiles,Beguiles my heart, I know not why,And yet I'll love her till I die.

Cupid is winged and he doth range,Her country, so, my love doth change:But change she earth, or change she sky,

Yet, I will love her till I die.

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