tag:,2008-09-20:/1 2009-10-05T19:00:39Z Speak the many languages of love! Romantic love poems and quotes in English, German, French. Latin, Russian and other languages. Famous poems and lesser known verses by famous poets. Use them for love letters, wedding vows, cards and engraved ring inscriptions! Movable Type 4.21-en tag:lovepoems.inrebus.com,2009://1.31 2009-10-05T18:56:25Z 2009-10-05T19:00:39Z

Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks:Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,Having some business, do entreat her eyesTo twinkle in their spheres till they return.What if her...

admin Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II
I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks:
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,
As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright
That birds would sing and think it were not night.
See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!

Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II
Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set
On the fair daughter of rich Capulet:
As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine;
And all combined, save what thou must combine
By holy marriage: when and where and how
We met, we woo'd and made exchange of vow,
I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray,
That thou consent to marry us to-day.

Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene 3
I pray thee, chide not; she whom I love now
Doth grace for grace and love for love allow;
The other did not so.

Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene 3
O, she knew well
Thy love did read by rote, that could not spell.
But come, young waverer, come go with me,
In one respect I'll thy assistant be;
For this alliance may so happy prove,
To turn your households' rancour to pure love.

The Two Gentleman of Verona, Act I, Sc. III
O, how this spring of love resembleth
The uncertain glory of an April day!

Twelfth Night, Act III, Sc. I
Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.

Twelfth Night, Act II, Sc. III
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know.

Twelfth Night, Act I, Scene 1
O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou!
That, notwithstanding thy capacity
Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
Of what validity and pitch soever,
But falls into abatement and low price
Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy,
That it alone is high-fantastical.

As Your Like It
No sooner met but they looked;
No sooner looked but they loved;
No sooner loved but they sighed;
No sooner signed but they asked one another the reason;
No sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy;
And in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs to marriage...

Much Ado about Nothing, Act IV, Sc. I
I never tempted her with word too large,
But, as a brother to his sister, show'd
Bashful sincerity and comely love.

Othello, Act II, Sc. III
Cassio, I love thee;
But never more be officer of mine.

Othello, Act III, Sc. III
But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'er
Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!

Othello, Act III, Sc. III
Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,
But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,
Chaos is come again.

Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Sc. II
Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night till it be morrow.

Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II
My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.

Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Sc. V
My only love sprung from my only hate!
Too early seen unknown, and known too late!

A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act I, Sc. I
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.

Antony and Cleopatra, Act I, Sc. I
There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd.

As You Like It, Act II, Sc. V
Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me.

As You Like It, Act IV, Sc. I
Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love.

As You Like It, Act V, Sc. II
No sooner met but they looked; no sooner looked but they loved; no sooner loved but they sighed; no sooner sighed but they asked one another the reason; no sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy.

Hamlet, Act II, Sc. I
This is the very ecstasy of love.

Hamlet, Act II, Sc. II
Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar; ]]> tag:lovepoems.inrebus.com,2009://1.30 2009-10-04T01:51:38Z 2009-10-04T01:54:31Z

Sir Walter Scott.The VioletThe violet in her green-wood bower,Where birchen boughs with hazels mingle,May boast itself the fairest flowerIn glen, or copse, or forest dingle.Though fair her gems of azure hue,Beneath the dew-drop's weight reclining;I've seen an eye of lovelier...

admin
The Violet


The violet in her green-wood bower,
Where birchen boughs with hazels mingle,
May boast itself the fairest flower
In glen, or copse, or forest dingle.

Though fair her gems of azure hue,
Beneath the dew-drop's weight reclining;
I've seen an eye of lovelier blue,
More sweet through watery lustre shining.

The summer sun that dew shall dry,
Ere yet the day be passed its morrow;
No longer in my false love's eye
Remained the tear of parting sorrow.

]]> tag:lovepoems.inrebus.com,2009://1.29 2009-10-04T01:47:55Z 2009-10-04T01:48:44Z

Philip SidneyA DITTY.My true-love hath my heart and I have his,By just exchange one to the other given;I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss;There never was a better bargain driven:My true-love hath my heart, and I have his.His...

admin
A DITTY.

My true-love hath my heart and I have his,
By just exchange one to the other given;
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss;
There never was a better bargain driven:
My true-love hath my heart, and I have his.

His heart in me keeps him and me in one,
My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides;
He loves my heart, for once it was his own,
I cherish his, because in me it bides:
My true-love hath my heart, and I have his.  ]]> tag:lovepoems.inrebus.com,2009://1.28 2009-10-04T01:39:24Z 2009-10-04T01:43:28Z

admin
A Golden Wedding Poem.


I.

O Love, whose patient pilgrim feet
 Life's longest path have trod;
Whose ministry hath symbolled sweet
 The dearer love of God,--
The sacred myrtle wreathes again
 Thine altar, as of old;
And what was green with summer, then,
 Is mellowed, now, to gold.

II.

Not now, as then, the Future's face
 Is flushed with fancy's light,
But Memory, with a milder grace,
 Shall rule the feast, to-night.
Blest was the sun of joy that shone,
 Nor less the blinding shower,--
The bud of fifty years agone
 Is love's perfected flower!
III.
O Memory, ope thy mystic door;
 O dream of youth, return;
And let the lights that gleamed of yore
 Beside this altar burn!
The past is plain; 't was love designed
 E'en sorrow's iron chain,
And mercy's shining thread has twined
 With the dark warp of pain.

IV.

So be it, still. O Thou who hast
 That younger bridal blest,
Till the May-morn of love has passed
 To evening's golden west,--
Come to this later Cana, Lord,
 And, at Thy touch divine,
The water of that earlier board
 To-night shall turn to wine. ]]> tag:lovepoems.inrebus.com,2009://1.27 2009-10-01T20:48:14Z 2009-10-01T21:06:10Z

admin From Canto I of Don Juan

Yet Julia's very coldness still was kind,
 And tremulously gentle her small hand
Withdrew itself from his, but left behind
 A little pressure, thrilling, and so bland
And slight, so very slight, that to the mind
 'T was but a doubt; but ne'er magician's wand
Wrought change with all Armida's fairy art
 Like what this light touch left on Juan's heart.

...

Then there were sighs, the deeper for suppression,
 And stolen glances, sweeter for the theft,
And burning blushes, though for no transgression,
 Tremblings when met, and restlessness when left;
All these are little preludes to possession,
 Of which young Passion cannot be bereft,
And merely tend to show how greatly Love is
 Embarrassed at first starting with a novice.

...

Such love is innocent, and may exist
 Between young persons without any danger.
A hand may first, and then a lip be kissed;
 For my part, to such doings I'm a stranger,
But hear these freedoms form the utmost list
 Of all o'er which such love may be a ranger:
If people go beyond, 't is quite a crime,
 But not my fault--I tell them all in time.

...

How beautiful she looked! her conscious heart
 Glowed in her cheek, and yet she felt no wrong:
Oh Love! how perfect is thy mystic art,
 Strengthening the weak, and trampling on the strong!
How self-deceitful is the sagest part
 Of mortals whom thy lure hath led along!--
The precipice she stood on was immense,
 So was her creed in her own innocence.

...

"I loved, I love you, for this love have lost
 State, station, Heaven, Mankind's, my own esteem,
And yet can not regret what it hath cost,
 So dear is still the memory of that dream;
Yet, if I name my guilt, 't is not to boast,
 None can deem harshlier of me than I deem:
I trace this scrawl because I cannot rest--
 I've nothing to reproach, or to request.

From Canto II of Don Juan

A long, long kiss, a kiss of Youth, and Love,
 And Beauty, all concentrating like rays
Into one focus, kindled from above;
 Such kisses as belong to early days,
Where Heart, and Soul, and Sense, in concert move,
 And the blood's lava, and the pulse a blaze,
Each kiss a heart-quake,--for a kiss's strength,
 I think, it must be reckoned by its length.


From Canto V of Don Juan

"Thou ask'st, if I can love? be this the proof
 How much I have loved--that I love not thee!
In this vile garb, the distaff, web, and woof,
 Were fitter for me: Love is for the free!
I am not dazzled by this splendid roof;
 Whate'er thy power, and great it seems to be,
Heads bow, knees bend, eyes watch around a throne,
 And hands obey--our hearts are still our own."
]]> tag:lovepoems.inrebus.com,2009://1.26 2009-04-27T19:20:50Z 2009-04-27T19:23:38Z

Adam MickiewiczGrób Potockiej W kraju wiosny, pomiędzy rozkosznymi sady, Uwiędłaś, młoda różo! bo przeszłości chwile, Ulatując od ciebie jak złote motyle, Rzuciły w głębi serca pamiątek owady. Tam na północ ku Polsce świecą gwiazd gromady, Dlaczegoż na tej drodze błyszczy...

admin Adam Mickiewicz

Grób Potockiej


W kraju wiosny, pomiędzy rozkosznymi sady,
Uwiędłaś, młoda różo! bo przeszłości chwile,
Ulatując od ciebie jak złote motyle,
Rzuciły w głębi serca pamiątek owady.

Tam na północ ku Polsce świecą gwiazd gromady,
Dlaczegoż na tej drodze błyszczy się ich tyle?
Czy wzrok twój ognia pełen, nim zgasnął w mogile,
Tam wiecznie lecąc jasne powypalał ślady?

Polko! - i ja dni skończę w samotnej żałobie;
Tu niech mi garstkę ziemi dłoń przyjazna rzuci.
Podróżni często przy twym rozmawiają grobie,

I mnie wtenczas dŹwięk mowy rodzinnej ocuci;
I wieszcz, samotną piosnkę dumając o tobie,
Ujrzy bliską mogiłę i dla mnie zanuci.

Poetic translation

The Grave of Countess Potocka

In Spring of love and life, My Polish Rose,
You faded and forgot the joy of youth;
Bright butterfly, it brushed you, then left ruth
Of bitter memory that stings and glows.
O Stars! that seek a path my northland knows,
How dare you now on Poland shine forsooth,
When she who loved you and lent you her youth
Sleeps where beneath the wind the long grass blows?

Alone, My Polish Rose, I die, like you.
Beside your grave a while pray let me rest
With other wanderers at some grief's behest.
The tongue of Poland by your grave rings true.
High-hearted, now a young boy past it goes,
Of you it is he sings, My Polish Rose.
]]> tag:lovepoems.inrebus.com,2009://1.25 2009-04-23T20:24:13Z 2009-04-24T15:40:48Z

admin Pierre Jean de Beranger

QU'ELLE  EST  JOLIE!

    Grands dieux! Combien elle est jolie
    Celle que j'aimerai toujours!
    Dans leur douce mélancolie
    Ses yeux font rêver aux amours.
    Du plus beau souffle de la vie
    À l'animer le ciel se plaît.
    Grands dieux! Combien elle est jolie!
    Et moi, je suis, je suis si laid!
    Grands dieux, combien elle est jolie!

    Elle compte au plus vingt printemps.
    Sa bouche est fraîche épanouie;
    Ses cheveux sont blonds et flottants.
    Par mille talents embellie,
    Seule elle ignore ce qu'elle est.
    Grands dieux! Combien elle est jolie!
    Et moi, je suis, je suis si laid!

    Grands dieux! Combien elle est jolie!
    Et cependant j'en suis aimé.
    J'ai dû long-temps porter envie
    Aux traits dont le sexe est charmé.
    Avant qu'elle enchantât ma vie,
    Devant moi l'amour s'envolait.
    Grands dieux! Combien elle est jolie!
    Et moi, je suis, je suis si laid!

    Grands dieux! Combien elle est jolie!
    Et pour moi ses feux sont constants.
    La guirlande qu'elle a cueillie
    Ceint mon front chauve avant trente ans.
    Voiles qui parez mon amie,
    Tombez; mon triomphe est complet.
    Grands dieux! Combien elle est jolie!
    Et moi, je suis, je suis si laid!


Poetic translation

HOW FAIR SHE IS


Ye gods! she is so fair, so sweet,
I've cast my life beneath her feet;
In her deep, melancholy eyes
All love's raptured languor lies;
Gentle zephyrs, blowing round her,
With their choicest sweets have crown'd her;
She's fair as morning's rosy light,
Whilst I am gloomy as the night.

Ye gods ! she is so fair, so sweet,
I've cast my life beneath her feet;
The tinge upon her golden hair
Gleams as tho' sunset loiter'd there;
Clever she is in all but this,
She scarcely knows how fair she is;
She's fair as morning's rosy light,
Whilst I am gloomy as the night.

Ye gods! she is so fair, so sweet,
I've cast my life beneath her feet;
Tho' love had been my fondest dream,
And woman's charms my favorite theme,
Before she brighten'd up my heart
Love fled away, or kept apart;
She's fair as morning's rosy light,
Whilst I am gloomy as the night.

Ye gods! she is so fair, so sweet,
I've cast my life beneath her feet --
A life of barely thirty years,
And yet how old with doubts and fears,
Until with love, and hope, and truth,
She seem'd to bring me back my youth;
For she was fair as morning's light,
Whilst I was gloomy as the night.  ]]> tag:lovepoems.inrebus.com,2009://1.24 2009-04-23T20:13:35Z 2009-04-23T20:14:57Z

admin Love's Emblems 

NOW the lusty spring is seen;
    Golden yellow, gaudy blue,
    Daintily invite the view:
Everywhere on every green
Roses blushing as they blow
    And enticing men to pull,
Lilies whiter than the snow,
    Woodbines of sweet honey full:
        All love's emblems, and all cry,
        'Ladies, if not pluck'd, we die.'

Yet the lusty spring hath stay'd;
    Blushing red and purest white
    Daintily to love invite
Every woman, every maid:
Cherries kissing as they grow,
    And inviting men to taste,
Apples even ripe below,
    Winding gently to the waist:
        All love's emblems, and all cry,
        'Ladies, if not pluck'd, we die.' ]]> tag:lovepoems.inrebus.com,2009://1.23 2009-04-23T20:10:56Z 2009-04-23T20:11:44Z

She dwelt among the untrodden waysBeside the springs of Dove,Maid whom there were none to praiseAnd very few to love:A violet by a mosy toneHalf hidden from the eye!---Fair as a star, when only oneIs shining in the sky.She lived...

admin Beside the springs of Dove,
Maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:

A violet by a mosy tone
Half hidden from the eye!
---Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.

She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and, oh,
The difference to me!  ]]> tag:lovepoems.inrebus.com,2009://1.22 2009-04-23T15:59:43Z 2009-04-23T16:01:13Z

admin Juan Meléndez Valdés

EL AMANTE TIMIDO

En la pena aguda           
que me hace sufrir         
el Amor tirano          
desde que te vi,         
mil veces su alivio         
te voy a pedir,         
y luego, aldeana,         
que llego ante ti,           
    si quiero atreverme,         
     no sé qué decir.         

Las voces me faltan,         
y mi frenesí         
con míseros ayes           
las cuida suplir;         
pero el dios aleve         
se burla de mí:         
cuanto ansío más tierno         
mis labios abrir,          
     si quiero atreverme,         
     no sé qué decir.         

Sus fuegos entonces         
empieza a sentir         
tan vivos el alma           
que pienso morir.         
Mis lágrimas corren;         
mi agudo gemir         
tu pecho sensible         
conmueve, y al fin,          
      si quiero atreverme,         
      no sé qué decir.         

No lo sé, temblando         
si por descubrir         
con loca esperanza           
mi amor infeliz,         
tu lado por siempre         
tendré ya que huir,         
sellándome el miedo         
la boca, y así,          
       si quiero atreverme,         
       no sé qué decir.         

¡Ay!, ¡si tú, adorada,         
pudieras oír         
mis hondos suspiros,           
yo fuera feliz!         
Yo, Filis, lo fuera;         
mas, ¡triste de mí!,         
que tímido al verte         
burlarme y reír,           
       si quiero atreverme,         
       no sé qué decir.         


Poetic translation

THE TIMID LOVER

In the sharp pains the tyrant Love,
 Since first I saw thee, made me feel,
To thee a thousand times above,
 I come those pains to heal.
My village girl I but soon as nigh
 To thee I find my way.
If e'er so bold to be I try,
 I know not what to say.

My voices fail, and mournful sighs,
 Malicious frenzy watching o'er.
The place of them alone supplies ;
 While mocks my efforts more
The traitor god, when anxious by
 My thoughts to speak I pray;
If e'er so bold to be I try,
 I know not what to say.

Then feels his fire so strong my soul,
 Meseems, to die my only fate;
My tears in torrents freely roll,
 And with deep' groanlngs wait
To move thy feeling heart's reply;
 But vainly, all astray!
If e'er so bold to be I try,
 I know not what to say.

I know not what, in trembling fear,
 That seals my lips, as yet to learn
A foolish hope, thou mayst ev'n here
 My hapless love discern.
I feel I must for ever fly
 From thy side far away!
If e'er so bold to be I try,
 I know not what to say.

Alas I if thou couldst, my adored,
 But hear those sighs and thoughts express'd.
What happiness 't would me afford!
 I should be, Phyllis, blest.
But woe is me I beneath thine eye,
 To sink in mock'd dismay!
If e'er so bold to be I try,
 I know not what to say.

]]> tag:lovepoems.inrebus.com,2009://1.21 2009-04-22T19:43:09Z 2009-04-22T19:47:38Z

admin   In silence and tears,    
Half broken-hearted    
  To sever for years,    
Pale grew thy cheek and cold
  Colder thy kiss;    
Truly that hour foretold    
  Sorrow to this.    
 
The dew of the morning     
  Sunk chill on my brow--
It felt like the warning     
  Of what I feel now.     
Thy vows are all broken,     
  And light is thy fame:     
I hear thy name spoken,
  And share in its shame.     
 
They name thee before me,     
  A knell to mine ear;     
A shudder comes o'er me--     
  Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,     
  Who knew thee too well:     
Long, long shall I rue thee,     
  Too deeply to tell.     
 
In secret we met--
  In silence I grieve,     
That thy heart could forget,     
  Thy spirit deceive.     
If I should meet thee     
  After long years,
How should I greet thee?     
  With silence and tears.
]]> tag:lovepoems.inrebus.com,2009://1.20 2009-04-21T23:05:37Z 2009-04-21T23:06:42Z

William Drummond Of Hawthorn DenTHE QUALITY OF A KISSThe kiss with so much strifeWhich I late got, sweet heart,Was it a sign of death, or was it life?Of life it could not be,For I by it did sigh my soul...

admin William Drummond Of Hawthorn Den

THE QUALITY OF A KISS

The kiss with so much strife
Which I late got, sweet heart,
Was it a sign of death, or was it life?
Of life it could not be,
For I by it did sigh my soul in thee;
Nor was it death, death doth no joy impart.
Thou silent stand'st, ah ! what thou didst bequeath
To me a dying life was, living death.  ]]> tag:lovepoems.inrebus.com,2009://1.19 2009-04-21T21:17:44Z 2009-04-21T21:28:18Z

Francesco Petrarca (Petrarch)In qual parte del cielo, in quale ideaera l'esempio, onde natura tolsequel bel viso leggiadro, in ch' ella volsemostrar qua giù quanto lassù potea ?qual ninfa in fonti, in selve mai qual deachiome d' oro si fino a...

admin Francesco Petrarca (Petrarch)

In qual parte del cielo, in quale idea
era l'esempio, onde natura tolse
quel bel viso leggiadro, in ch' ella volse
mostrar qua giù quanto lassù potea ?
qual ninfa in fonti, in selve mai qual dea
chiome d' oro si fino a l' aura sciolse ?
quando un cor tante in se vertuti accolse ?
benchè la somma è di mia morte rea.

Per divina bellezza indarno mira,
chi gli occhi de costei già mai non vide,
come soavemente ella gli gira.
Non sa come Amor sana e come ancide
chi non sa come dolce ella sospira,
e come dolce parla e dolce ride.

Poetic translation

In what celestial sphere, by whom inspired,
Did Nature find the cast from which she drew
This lovely face wherein she hath aspired
To manifest below what Heaven can do?
Upon the breeze these tresses of pure gold
What goddess of the woods, what water-fay
Hath lavished thus ? What other heart could hold
These virtues which have made my life their prey?

Of godly beauty he is unaware
Who hath not gazed into my Lady's eyes,
Nor gathered her sweet glances here on earth;
He knoweth not Love's Hell nor Paradise
Who never heard her sighs as light as air,
The gentle music of her speech and mirth.  ]]> tag:lovepoems.inrebus.com,2009://1.18 2009-04-20T14:50:22Z 2009-04-20T14:52:58Z

admin  

Máire Ní Eidhin   


Ar mo dhul chuig an Aifreann le toil na ngrásta,
Bhí an lá ag cur báistí is d'ardaigh gaoth,
Casadh an ainnir liom le taobh Chill Tartain
Is thit mé láithreach i ngrá le mnaoi.
Labhair mé léi go múinte mánla,
Is de réir a cáilíochta d'fhreagair sí,
'Sé dúirt sí - "Raifteirí, tá m'intinn sásta,
Agus gluais go lá liom go Baile Uí Laí."
Nuair a fuair mé an tairscint níor lig mé ar cairde í,
Rinne mé gáire agus gheit mo chroí,
Ní raibh le dul againn ach trasna páirce
Agus thug sin slán sinn go tóin an tí.
Leagadh chughainn bord a raibh gloine is cárta air,
Is bhí an chúileann fáinneach le m'ais ina suí,
'Sé dúirt sí - "Raifteirí, bí ag ól is céad fáilte,
Tá an siléar láidir i mBaile Uí Laí."

Poetic translation
 
The Lass from Bally-na-Lee

 

On my way to Mass

    To say a prayer,

The wind was high

    Sowing rain,

I met a maid

    With wind-wild hair

And madly fell

    In love again.

I spoke with learning,

    Charm and pride

And, as was fitting,

    Answered she:

'My mind is now

    well satisfied,

So walk with me

    To Bally-na-Lee.'

Given the offer,

    I didn't delay,

And blowing a laugh

    At this willing young lass,

I swung with her over

    The fields through the day

Till shortly we reached

    The rump of the house.

A table with glasses

    And drink was set

And then says the lassie,

    Turning to me:

'You are welcome, Raftery,

    So drink a wet

To love's demands

    In Bally-na-Lee.'

]]> tag:lovepoems.inrebus.com,2009://1.17 2009-04-19T01:22:52Z 2009-04-19T01:58:13Z

PARNYLE BAISER Ah! Justine, qu'avez-vous fait? Quel nouveau trouble et quelle ivresse! Quoi! cette extase enchanteresse D'un simple baiser est l'effet? Le baiser de celui qu'on aime A son attrait et sa douceur; Mais le prélude du bonheur Peut-il être...

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LE BAISER

Ah! Justine, qu'avez-vous fait?
Quel nouveau trouble et quelle ivresse!
Quoi! cette extase enchanteresse
D'un simple baiser est l'effet?
Le baiser de celui qu'on aime
A son attrait et sa douceur;
Mais le prélude du bonheur
Peut-il être le bonheur même?
Oui, sans doute, ce baiser-là
Est le premier, belle Justine;
Sa puissance est toujours divine ,
Et votre cœur s'en souviendra.
Votre ami murmure et s'étonne
Qu'il ait sur lui moins de pouvoir;
Mais il jouit de ce qu'il donne;
C'est beaucoup plus que recevoir.

Poetic translation

The Kiss.

An, Justine! what have you done?
All this ecstasy of bliss,
All this throbbing passion won
From one single kiss !
Lingering kisses never cloy
On the loving lips we press,
But, perhaps, the foretaste e'en of joy
Is love's greatest happiness;
And e'en the remembrance, Sweet,
Of this first kiss, always will
Make your bosom flush and beat,
Till your heart be cold and still.
Now your lover scarce believes
That 'tis his love inspires you:
Better to give than to receive,
So he joys in the love that fires you. ]]>