Love Quotes — page 98

Oh, all Know love is woman's happiness.

Immensity, cloister'd in thy dear womb, Now leaves His well-beloved imprisonment.

Yet gazed MANDALLA on the square As she he sought still glided there,— Oh that fond look, whose eyeballs' strain, And will not know its look is vain! At length he turned,—his silent mood Sought that impassioned solitude,

'Tis something, if in absence we can see The footsteps of the past:—it soothes the heart To breathe the air scented in other years By lips beloved; to wander through the groves Where once we were not lonely,—

Love is like the glass, That throws its own rich colour over all, And makes all beautiful.

I do love violets: They tell the history of woman's love; They open with the earliest breath of spring; Lead a sweet life of perfume, dew, and light; And, if they perish, perish with a sigh Delicious as that life.

Then they were silent:—words are little aid To Love, whose deepest vows are ever made By the heart's beat alone. Oh, silence is Love's own peculiar eloquence of bliss!

I loved him as young Genius loves, When its own wild and radiant heaven Of starry thought burns with the light, The love, the life, by passion given. I loved him, too, as woman loves-- Reckless of sorrow, sin, or scorn:

There are a thousand fanciful things Linked round the young heart's imaginings. In its first love-dream, a leaf or a flower Is gifted then with a spell and a power: A shade is an omen, a dream is a sign, From which the maiden can well …

It was my evil star above, Not my sweet lute, that wrought me wrong; It was not song that taught me love, But it was love that taught me song.

But Love's bright fount is never pure; And all his pilgrims must endure All passion's mighty suffering Ere they may reach the blessed spring.

I Give thee, love, a blooming braid; I cull'd it at eve's 'witching hour ; I twin'd it in the moon's sweet shade, When starlight dew was on each flower.

... Oh! burning are the drops That wounded love will shed—like to the dew Falling from off the poison tree, the blight Still following the touch ;—ah ! other tears Soften and bless—but these destroy the heart.