A Marriage of Art and Poetry
Poetry
Words have power over mind and heart when like cool water they flow They sooth and mend our wounded souls Make deep emotions grow
When combined with honesty and truth along with meter and rhyme You have then discovered poetry that never fades with time
A river of poets, from centuries past well express what we cannot say with our own weak and feeble tongues What we feel in our hearts today
So let them speak, as from the grave for times have not changed so We love and laugh, hurt and feel as they did long ago.
Roberta Schmidt
Robert Burns
My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose
O, my love is like a red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June: My love is like a melodie, That's sweetly play'd in tune. So fair thou art, my bonnie lass, So deep in love am I: And I will love 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: And I will love thee still, my dear, While the sands of life shall run. And fare the weel, my only love, And fare the well awhile! And I will come again, my love. Tho' it were ten thousand mile
William Shakespeare(1564-1616)
Sonnet XVIII: Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
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 dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd; But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st 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.
George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824)
She Walks in Beauty
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 mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impair'd 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!
So We'll Go No More a Roving
So we'll go no more a roving So late into the night, Though the heart be still as loving, And the moon be still as bright.
For the sword outwears its sheath, And the soul wears out the breast, And the heart must pause to breathe, And Love itself have rest.
Though the night was made for loving, And the day returns too soon, Yet we'll go no more a roving By the light of the moon.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnets from the Portugese, 14, If Thou Must Love Me XIV
If thou must love me, let it be for nought Except for love's sake only. Do not say I love her for her smile ... her look ... her way Of speaking gently, ... for a trick of thought That falls in well with mine, and certes brought A sense of pleasant ease on such a day'-- For these things in themselves, Beloved, may Be changed, or change for thee,--and love, so wrought, May be unwrought so. Neither love me for Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry,-- A creature might forget to weep, who bore Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby! But love me for love's sake, that evermore Thou may'st love on, through love's eternity.
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