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
                     Revelation 12:
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