Home | Dating Advice | Dating Service Reviews | Dating Books | Dating Scene Newsletter | Gift Ideas | Site Map
 
UK dating services directory
free dating newsletter
Your Name:
E-mail Address:
 
dating service reviews
General Dating
Speed Dating
Gay & Lesbian
Christian Dating
Jewish Dating
Black Dating
International

Compare Prices
 
dating advice, dating articles
Success stories
Dating tips
Dating articles
Date Ideas
Gift Ideas
Romantic Poems
Chat up lines
 
 
 
 

The Sorrow Of Love
Author: William Butler Yeats

 

 

The quarrel of the sparrow in the eaves,
The full round moon and the star-laden sky,
And the loud song of the ever-singing leaves,
Had hid away earth's old and weary cry.

And then you came with those red mournful lips,
And with you came the whole of the world's tears,
And all the sorrows of her labouring ships,
And all the burden of her myriad years.

And now the sparrows warring in the eaves,
The curd-pale moon, the white stars in the sky,
And the loud chaunting of the unquiet leaves,
Are shaken with earth's old and weary cry.

         
           
         

To A Long-Loved Love
Author: Madeleine L'Engle

         

 

We, who have seen the new moon grow old together,
Who have seen winter rime the fields and stones
As though it would claim earth and water forever,
We who have known the touch of flesh and the shape of bones
Know the old moon stretching its shadows across a whitened field
More beautiful than spring with all its spate of blooms;
What passion knowledge of tried flesh still yields,
What joy and comfort these familiar rooms.

In the moonless, lampless dark now of this bed
My body knows each line and curve of yours;
My fingers know the shape of limb and head:
As pure as mathematics ecstasy endures.
Blinded by night and love we share our passion,
Certain of burning flesh, of living bone:
So feels the sculptor in the moment of creation
Moving his hands across the uncut stone.

I know why a star gives light
Shining quietly in the night;
Arithmetic helps me unravel
The hours and years this light must travel
To penetrate our atmosphere.
I can count the craters on the moon
With telescopes to make them clear.
With delicate instruments I can measure
The secrets of barometric pressure.

And therefore I find it inexpressibly queer
That with my own soul I am out of tune,
And that I have not stumbled on the art
Of forecasting the weather of the heart.

Poems index
Next poem
 
dating direct
I am a looking
for a