Love not, love not, ye hapless sons of clay

Love not, love not, ye hapless sons of clay!

Hope’s gayest wreaths are made of earthly flowers,—

Things that are made to fade and fall away

Ere they have blossomed for a few short hours.

Love not!

Love not! the thing ye love may change;

The rosy lip may cease to smile on you,

The kindly-beaming eye grow cold and strange,

The heart still warmly beat, yet not be true.

Love not!

Love not! the thing you love may die,—

May perish from the gay and gladsome earth;

The silent stars, the blue and smiling sky,

Beam o’er its grave, as once upon its birth.

Love not!

Love not! O warning vainly said

In present hours as in years gone by!

Love flings a halo round the dear one’s head,

Faultless, immortal, till they change or die.

Love not!

By CAROLINE ELIZABETH SHERIDAN

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Go, lovely Rose,

Go, lovely Rose,

Tell her that wastes her time and me,

That now she knows

When I resemble her to thee

How sweet and fair she seems to be.

Tell her that’s young,

And shuns to have her graces spied,

That had’st thou sprung

In deserts where no men abide,

Thou must have uncommended died.

Small is the worth

Of beauty from the light retired;

Bid her come forth,

Suffer herself to be desired,

And not blush so to be admired.

Then die, that she

The common fate of all things rare

May read in thee,

How small a part of time they share

Who are so wondrous sweet and fair

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Because She Would Ask Me Why I Loved Her

If questioning would make us wise

No eyes would ever gaze in eyes;

If all our tale were told in speech

No mouths would wander each to each.

Were spirits free from mortal mesh

And love not bound in hearts of flesh

No aching breasts would yearn to meet

And find their ecstasy complete.

For who is there that lives and knows

The secret powers by which he grows?

Were knowledge all, what were our need

To 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 live

And life in me is what you give.

 Poet: Christopher Brennan

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AN ODE TO LOVE

Love resides in the temple of a loving heart,

Both they live together in a room very small,

Eat, drink, dance, play and pray.

Like birds, lilies, sing prayer in silence calm.

When divine romance starts, light shines,

Soul baths in love, spiritual discourses start.

When fiery desire of love illumines the shrine,

Dressed up in a beggars’rags, lover sings under stars.

No one can slay love, none can burn love,

No one can drown love, none can destroy love.

O love ! Birds with broken wings cannot understand you.

O dream! Wanderers of barren fields don’t know you.

O soul! Kissing lips touch and depart,

Lovers’ names remain eternal on lips by far!

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Look! There he is

Look! There he is!

Death is on these walls

Death is in this air

Death is on this ground

Don’t you see him?

He’s standing next to me

Whispering in my ear

He’s with me right now

Can’t you see him?

Death is behind you

He’s breathing down your neck

Death is close

Don’t you feel him?

Death is caressing me

He’s holding me close

He’s whispering sweet things

Don’t you see?

Can’t you feel him?

Look! There he is!

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