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    'I heard an old religious man but yesternight declare that he had found a text to prove that only God, my dear, could love you for yourself alone and not your yellow hair' 'i can get a hair-dye and set such colour there, Brown, or black, or carrot, that young men in despair May love me for myself alone and not my yellow hair'

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    'I heard an old religious man but yesternight declare that he had found a text to prove that only God, my dear, could love you for yourself alone and not your yellow hair' 'i can get a hair-dye and set such colour there, Brown, or black, or carrot, that young men in despair May love me for myself alone and not my yellow hair'

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    6 views3 pages

    For Anne Gregory

    Uploaded by

    pax7843
    'I heard an old religious man but yesternight declare that he had found a text to prove that only God, my dear, could love you for yourself alone and not your yellow hair' 'i can get a hair-dye and set such colour there, Brown, or black, or carrot, that young men in despair May love me for myself alone and not my yellow hair'

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    For Anne Gregory 'NEVER shall a young man, Thrown into despair By those great honey-coloured Ramparts at your

    ear, Love you for yourself alone And not your yellow hair.' 'But I can get a hair-dye And set such colour there, Brown, or black, or carrot, That young men in despair May love me for myself alone And not my yellow hair.' 'I heard an old religious man But yesternight declare That he had found a text to prove That only God, my dear, Could love you for yourself alone And not your yellow hair.' William Butler Yeats

    Hope Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune--without the words, And never stops at all, And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm. I've heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me. Emily Dickinson

    How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43) How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death. Elizabeth Barrett Browning

    Sonnet XVII I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way Than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep. Pablo Neruda

    Sonnet XVII (100 Love Sonnets, 1960) I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries hidden within itself the light of those flowers, and thanks to your love, darkly in my body lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where, I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.

    Fire and Ice Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice. From what Ive tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate To know that for destruction ice Is also great And would suffice. Robert Frost

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