Full Online Books
Authors Authors Short Stories Short Stories Long Stories Long Stories Funny Stories Funny Stories Love Stories Love Stories Stories For Kids Stories For Kids Poems Poems Essays Essays Nonfictions Nonfictions Plays Plays Folktales Folktales Fairy Tales Fairy Tales Fables Fables Learning Kitchen Learning Kitchen
Valid XHTML 1.0 Transitional Free Classified Website Without Registration Free Classified Website Daniel Company
Twitter Twitter Add book
Full Online Book HomePoemsTwo Ways To Love
Famous Authors (View All Authors)
Two Ways To Love Post by :igulus Category :Poems Author :Susan Coolidge Date :July 2011 Read :3417

Click below to download : Two Ways To Love (Format : PDF)

Two Ways To Love

"Entre deux amants il y a toujours l'an qui baise et l'autre qui tend la joue."

I says he loves me well, and I
Believe it; in my hands, to make
Or mar, his life lies utterly,
Nor can I the strong plea deny.
Which claims my love for his love's sake.

He says there is no face so fair
As mine; when I draw near, his eyes
Light up; each ripple of my hair
He loves; the very clunk I wear
He touches fondly where it lies.

And roses, roses all the way,
Upon my path fall, strewed by him;
His tenderness by night, by day,
Keeps faithful watch to heap alway
My cup of pleasure to the brim.

The other women, full of spite,
Count me the happiest woman born
To be so worshipped; I delight
To flaunt his homage in their sight,--
For me the rose, for them its thorn.

I love him--or I think I do;
Sure one MUST love what is so sweet.
He is all tender and all true,
All eloquent to plead and sue,
All strength--though kneeling at my feet.

Yet I had visions once of yore,
Girlish imaginings of a zest,
A possible thrill,--but why run o'er
These fancies?--idle dreams, no more;
I will forget them, this is best.

So let him take,--the past is past;
The future, with its golden key,
Into his outstretched hands I cast.
I shall love him--perhaps--at last,
As now I love his love for me.



Nor as all other women may,
Love I my Love; he is so great,
So beautiful, I dare essay
No nearness but in silence lay
My heart upon his path,--and wait.

Poor heart! its healings are so low
He does not heed them passing by,
Save as one heeds, where violets grow,
A fragrance, caring not to know
Where the veiled purple buds may lie.

I sometimes think that it is dead,
It lies so still. I bend and lean,
Like mother over cradle-head,
Wondering if still faint breaths are shed
Like sighs the parted lips between.

And then, with vivid pulse and thrill,
It quickens into sudden bliss
At sound of step or voice, nor will
Be hushed, although, regardless still,
He knows not, cares not, it is his.

I would not lift it if I could;
The little flame, though faint and dim
As glow-worm spark in lonely wood,
Shining where no man calls it good,
May one day light the path for him,--

May guide his way, or soon or late,
Through blinding mist or wintry rain;
And, so content, I watch and wait.
Let others share his happier fate,
I only ask to share his pain!

And if some day, when passing by,
My dear Love should his steps arrest,
Should mark the poor heart waiting nigh,
Should know it his, should lift it,--why,
Patience is good, but joy is best!

(The end)
Susan Coolidge's poem: Two Ways To Love

If you like this book please share to your friends :

Antiques - The New Amor Antiques - The New Amor

Antiques - The New Amor
The New AmorAMOR, not the child, the youthful lover of Psyche,Look'd round Olympus one day, boldly, to triumph inured;There he espied a goddess, the fairest amongst the immortals,--Venus Urania she,--straight was his passion inflamed.Even the holy one powerless proved, alas! 'gainst his wooing,--Tightly embraced in his arm, held her the daring one fast.Then from their union arose a new, a more beauteous Amor,Who from his father his wit, grace from his mother derives.Ever thou'lt find him join'd in the kindly Muses' communion,And his charm-laden bolt foundeth the love of the arts.

Antiques - Phoebus and Hermes Antiques - Phoebus and Hermes

Antiques - Phoebus and Hermes
Phoebus and HermesDELOS' stately ruler, and Maia's son, the adroit one,Warmly were striving, for both sought the great prize to obtain.Hermes the lyre demanded, the lyre was claim'd by Apollo,Yet were the hearts of the foes fruitlessly nourish'd by hope.For on a sudden Ares burst in, with fury decisive,Dashing in twain the gold toy, brandishing wildly his sword.Hermes, malicious one, laughed beyond measure; yet deep-seated sorrowSeized upon Phoebus's heart, seized on the heart of each Muse.