I Love Love - Poem by gershon hepner
I love love, the poet said,
though with wings it flies with speed
of light and with a cat-like tread
engages those who don’t pay heed.
Solitude I also love,
more than wind and wave and storm,
but to you I’ll fly, my dove,
in the summer when it’s warm,
and will tremble like a leaf
in the autumn when the falling
warns me I must seek relief
as the shorter days are crawling
slowly towards winter, when
love will be our chief delight,
till the cuckoo sings, for then
love will take us on its flight.
Inspired by “Rarely, Rarely Comest Thou” by Shelley
Rarely, rarely, comest thou,
Spirit of Delight!
Wherefore hast thou left me now
Many a day and night?
Many a weary night and day
'Tis since thou are fled away.
How shall ever one like me
Win thee back again?
With the joyous and the free
Thou wilt scoff at pain.
Spirit false! thou hast forgot
All but those who need thee not.
As a lizard with the shade
Of a trembling leaf,
Thou with sorrow art dismay'd;
Even the sighs of grief
Reproach thee, that thou art not near,
And reproach thou wilt not hear.
Let me set my mournful ditty
To a merry measure;
Thou wilt never come for pity,
Thou wilt come for pleasure;
Pity then will cut away
Those cruel wings, and thou wilt stay.
I love all that thou lovest,
Spirit of Delight!
The fresh Earth in new leaves dress'd,
And the starry night;
Autumn evening, and the morn
When the golden mists are born.
I love snow, and all the forms
Of the radiant frost;
I love waves, and winds, and storms,
Which is Nature's, and may be
Untainted by man's misery.
I love tranquil solitude,
And such society
As is quiet, wise, and good;
Between thee and me
What difference? but thou dost possess
The things I seek, not love them less.
I love Love-though he has wings,
And like light can flee,
But above all other things,
Spirit, I love thee-
Thou art love and life! Oh come,
Make once more my heart thy home.
Comments about I Love Love by gershon hepner
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You