Classic and Contemporary Poetry
SPRING LOVE-SONG, by PIERRE DE RONSARD Poet's Biography First Line: When the beauteous spring I see Last Line: Making all our passion vain. Subject(s): Birth; Earth; Hearts; Love; Singing & Singers; Spring; Child Birth; Midwifery; World | ||||||||
WHEN the beauteous Spring I see, Glad and free, Making young the sea and earth, Then the light of day above And our love Seem but newly brought to birth. When the sky of deeper blue Lights anew Lands more beautiful and green, Love, with witching looks for darts, Wars on hearts, Winning them for his demesne. Scattering his arrows dire Tipped with fire, He doth bring beneath his sway Men and birds and beasts for slaves -- And the waves To his power obeisance pay. . . . Nature, for Love's triumphing, In the Spring Thrills my heart at every breath By new beauties everywhere Which her care From my Lady borroweth: When I see the woodland bowers Bright with flowers, And the banks with flowers bedight, Then methinks I see the grace Of her face Fair with blended red and white; When I see elm-branches bound Close around Where the loving ivies wind, Then I feel encompassing Arms that cling Fast about my neck entwined; When I hear thee in the vale, Nightingale, Uttering thy sweetest voice, Then methinks her voice I hear, Low and clear, Making all my soul rejoice; When the soft wind comes anon Murmuring on Through the many-branched grove, Then I hear the murmured word That I heard Once alone beside my love; When I see a new-blown flower's Earliest hours By the morning sun caressed, Then its beauty I compare To the rare Budding beauty of her breast; When the sun in Orient skies 'Gins to rise, Flaunting free his yellow hair, Then methinks my sweet I see Fronting me, Binding up her tresses fair; When I see the meadows studded With new-budded Flowers that overflow the earth, Then my senses half believe They receive Honeyed fragrance from her breath. So it proveth, howsoe'er I compare Spring-time with my chosen one. Spring gives life to every flower -- Life and power Come to me from her alone. Would 'twere mine, where streamlets flow Whispering low, To unbind that wealth of hair, Then to wind as many a curl As there purl Running rippling wavelets there. Would 'twere mine to be the god Of this wood, So to seize and hold my love, Kissing her as oft again As there ben Greening leaves in all the grove. . . . Ah, my sweet, my martyrdom, Hither come, See the flowers how they fare. They to pity me are fain -- Of my pain Thou alone hast not a care. See the gentle mating dove And his love, How they win the joy we seek, How they love as Nature bade Unafraid, How they kiss with wings and beak, While we, following honor's shade, Have betrayed Joy, through fear and coward shame. Ah! the birds are happier far Than we are, Loving without let or blame. Time is hasting to destroy All our joy, Snatching it with harpy claws. Sweetheart, let us live and love Like the dove, Heeding not men's rigorous laws. Kiss me, ere the moment slips, On my lips, O my love, and yet again Kiss me, ere our youth's brief day Fleet away, Making all our passion vain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BROKEN BALANCE by ROBINSON JEFFERS SUBJECTED EARTH by ROBINSON JEFFERS GEOMETAPHYSICS by MARGARET AVISON NIAGARA by JOHN FREDERICK NIMS SOPHISTICATION by CONRAD AIKEN I SEE CHILE IN MY REARVIEW MIRROR by AGHA SHAHID ALI WASHING OUR HANDS OF THE REST OF AMERICA by MARVIN BELL THE EARTH IS A LIVING THING by LUCILLE CLIFTON RETURN OF SPRING by PIERRE DE RONSARD |
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