.
 Beautiful Dreamer


           Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,
           Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee;
           Sounds of the rude world heard in the day
           Lull'd by the moonlight have all pass'd away!

           Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song,
           List while I woo thee with soft melody;
           Gone are the cares of life's busy throng.

           Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
           Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!

           Beautiful dreamer, out on the sea,
           Mermaids are chaunting the wild lorelie;
           Over the streamlet vapors are borne,
           Waiting to fade at the bright coming morn.

           Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart,
           E'en as the morn on the streamlet and sea;
           Then will all clouds of sorrow depart,

           Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!

                                             Stephen Foster
The Bride of Christ flies with the wings of
an eagle to Her Beloved Bridegroom in the
wilderness
                  Revelation 12  6
                       
Inspiring Love Poems


            Love (3)

Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
   Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
   From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
    If I lacked anything.

"A guest," I answered, "worthy to be here":
    Love said, "You shall be he."
"I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear,
    I cannot look on thee."
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
  "Who made the eyes but I?"

"Truth, Lord; but I have marred them; let my shame
     Go where it doth deserve."
"And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"
      "My dear, then I will serve."
"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."
        So I did sit and eat.
                                  Marriage Morning

                       Light, so low upon earth,
                          You send a flash to the sun.
                       Here is the golden close of love,
                          All my wooing is done.
                       Oh, the woods and the meadows,
                          Woods where we hid from the wet,
                       Stiles where we stay'd to be kind,
                          Meadows in which we met!

                       Light, so low in the vale
                         You flash and lighten afar,
                       For this is the golden morning of love,
                          And you are his morning star.
                       Flash, I am coming, I come,
                          By meadow and stile and wood,
                       Oh, lighten into my eyes and heart,
                          Into my heart and my blood!

                       Heart, are you great enough
                          For a love that never tires?
                       O' heart, are you great enough for love?
                          I have heard of thorns and briers,
                       Over the meadow and stiles,
                          Over the world to the end of it
                       Flash for a million miles.

                                        Alfred Lord Tennyson
             Sonnet 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments; love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no, it is an ever-fixèd mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his
 heighth be taken.
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.

                       Wiiliam Shakespeare
To His Love

            Come away, come, sweet love,
            The golden morning breaks,
            All the earth, all the air
            Of love and pleasure speaks,
            Teach thine arms then to embrace,
            And sweet rosy lips to kiss,
            And mix our souls in mutual bliss.
            Eyes were made for beauty's grace,
            Viewing, rueing love's long pain,
            Procur'd by beauty's rude disdain.

            Come away, come, sweet love,
            The golden morning wastes,
            While the sun from his sphere
            His fiery arrows casts:
            Making all the shadows fly,
            Playing, staying in the grove,
            To entertain the stealth of love,
            Thither, sweet love, let us hie,
            Flying, dying, in desire,
            Wing'd with sweet hopes
                  and heav'nly fire.

             Come away, come, sweet love,
             Do not in vain adorn
             Beauty's grace that should rise
             Like to the naked morn:
             Lilies on the river's side,
             And fair Cyprian flowers new blown,
             Desire no beauties but their own,
             Ornament is nurse of pride,
             Pleasure, measure, love's delight,
             Haste then, sweet love, our wished flight
Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every
one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. He that loveth
not knoweth not God; for God is love.
                                           I John 4: 7,8
          More Love Poems - Christian Poems - Lyrics
Art  by  Pat Smith
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