Deep Burning Secret: Love Poetry

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Fair, kind, and true, is all my argument, Fair, kind, and true, varying to other words; And in this change is my invention spent, Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords. Fair, kind, and true, have often lived alone, Which three till now, never kept seat in one.

Love Sonnet O, never say that I was false of heart, Though absence seemed my flame to qualify.

As easy might I from my self depart As from my soul which in thy breast doth lie. That is my home of love; if I have ranged, Like him that travels I return again, Just to the time, not with the time exchanged, So that myself bring water for my stain. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved. Love Sonnet My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips' red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound; I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground. And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare.

Take, O Take

Love Sonnet When my love swears that she is made of truth, I do believe her though I know she lies, That she might think me some untutored youth, Unlearned in the world's false subtleties. Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young, Although she knows my days are past the best, Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue: On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed: But wherefore says she not she is unjust? And wherefore say not I that I am old?

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Love Sonnet My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, Th' uncertain sickly appetite to please. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve Desire is death, which physic did except. Past cure I am, now reason is past care, And frantic-mad with evermore unrest; My thoughts and my discourse as mad men's are, At random from the truth vainly expressed.

Secret Love Poem Project

For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, Who art as black as hell, as dark as night. If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote, What means the world to say it is not so?

e-book Deep Burning Secret: Love Poetry

No marvel then though I mistake my view: The sun itself sees not till heaven clears. O cunning Love! Love Sonnet Cupid laid by his brand, and fell asleep: A maid of Dian's this advantage found, And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep In a cold valley-fountain of that ground; Which borrow'd from this holy fire of Love A dateless lively heat, still to endure, And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove Against strange maladies a sovereign cure.

But at my mistress' eye Love's brand new-fired, The boy for trial needs would touch my breast; I, sick withal, the help of bath desired, And thither hied, a sad distemper'd guest, But found no cure: the bath for my help lies Where Cupid got new fire--my mistress' eyes. Love Sonnet The little Love-god lying once asleep Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand, Whilst many nymphs that vow'd chaste life to keep Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand The fairest votary took up that fire Which many legions of true hearts had warm'd; And so the general of hot desire Was sleeping by a virgin hand disarm'd.

Verses on the Ecstasy of Deep Contemplation I entered where there is no knowing, and unknowing I remained, all knowledge there transcending. I Where no knowing is I entered, yet when I my own self saw there without knowing where I rested great things I understood there, yet cannot say what I felt there, since I rested in unknowing, all knowledge there transcending. II Of peace and of holy good there was perfect knowing, in profoundest solitude the only true way seeing, yet so secret is the thing that I was left here stammering, all knowledge there transcending.

III I was left there so absorbed, so entranced, and so removed, that my senses were abroad, robbed of all sensation proved, and my spirit then was moved with an unknown knowing, all knowledge there transcending. IV He who reaches there in truth from himself is parted though, and all that before he knew seems to him but base below, his knowledge increases so that knowledge has an ending, all knowledge there transcending.

VI This knowledge of unknowing is of so profound a power that no wise men arguing will ever supersede its hour: their wisdom cannot reach the tower where knowing has an ending, all knowledge there transcending. VII It is of such true excellence this highest understanding, no science, no human sense, has it in its grasping, yet he who, by self-conquering grasps knowing in unknowing, goes evermore transcending. VIII And in the deepest sense, this highest knowledge lies, of the divine essence, if you would be wise: his mercy so it does comprise, each one leaving in unknowing, all knowledge there transcending.

O Mistress Mine

Since you no more remove, end then, if you intend to; tear now the veil of mutual sweetness! O cautery so sweet! O soothing hand!

O delicate the touching, that signals life complete, pays every debt, changes death to life in its ending! O fiery light, in whose resplendencies deep caves of purest feeling, that once were eyeless night, with rarest beauties shed warmth and light on the loving. Spiritual Verses Seeking love always with hope that cannot falter I flew ever higher till I overtook my prey.

I So I might seize the prey in this divine venture I flew ever higher from sight was forced to stray, yet love so far did fly that though in my flight I faltered in the height I caught the prey on high. II As higher I ascended so the hardest conquest came about in darkness, all my sight was dazzled: yet since love was my prey from blind dark a leaper I flew on ever higher till I overtook the prey. I sank down lower, lower, yet I rose higher, higher and so I took the prey.

IV My one flight in strange manner surpassed a hundred thousand for the hope of highest heaven attains the end it hopes for: there hope alone did fly unfaltering in the height: hope, seeking in its flight, I caught the prey on high.

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I That fount eternal is a hidden thing. How well I know where its waters spring, though it is night! II Its source I know not since it has none, and yet every source from it does come, though it is night. III I know that nothing is as beautiful, of it earth and heaven there drink full, though it is night. IV I know that it is endlessly deep, that none across those depths may leap, though it is night. V Its clarity will never be obscured, I know all light there has its source, though it is night.

Shakespeare's Sonnets

VI I know its streams so greatly swell it waters earth, and heaven, and hell, though it is night. VII The flood that flows from out this spring, I know is full, and conquers everything, though it is night. VIII The flood that from these two proceeds I know that neither its deep flood exceeds, though it is night. IX And this eternal fountain is concealed, in the living bread our life to yield, though it is night.