Christopher Marlowe I Love You Poems

  • 1.
    It lies not in our power to love or hate,
    For will in us is overruled by fate.
    When two are stripped, long ere the course begin,
    We wish that one should love, the other win;
    ...
  • 2.
    It lies not in our power to love or hate,
    For will in us is over-rul'd by fate.
    hen two are stript long ere the course begin,
    We wish that one should lose, the other win;
    ...
  • 3.
    Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships,
    And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
    Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.
    Her lips suck forth my soul: see where it flies!
    ...
  • 4.
    _Jack._ Seest thou not yon farmer's son?
    He hath stoln my love from me, alas!
    What shall I do? I am undone;
    My heart will ne'er be as it was.
    ...
  • 5.
    I love thee not for sacred chastity.
    Who loves for that? nor for thy sprightly wit:
    I love thee not for thy sweet modesty,
    Which makes thee in perfection's throne to sit.
    ...
  • 6.
    Come live with me, and be my love,
    And we will all the pleasures prove,
    That hills and valleys, dales and fields,
    And all the craggy mountain yields.
    ...
  • 7.
    By this, sad Hero, with love unacquainted,
    Viewing Leander's face, fell down and fainted.
    He kissed her and breathed life into her lips,
    Wherewith as one displeased away she trips.
    ...
  • 8.
    On Hellespont, guilty of true love's blood,
    In view and opposite two cities stood,
    Sea-borderers, disjoin'd by Neptune's might;
    The one Abydos, the other Sestos hight.
    ...
Total 8 I Love You Poems by Christopher Marlowe

Top 10 most used topics by Christopher Marlowe

I Love You 8 Love 8 Sweet 7 Gold 6 Light 6 Night 6 Long 6 Beauty 5 Dance 5 Soul 5

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Ballade Of The Midnight Forest
 by Andrew Lang

Still sing the mocking fairies, as of old,
Beneath the shade of thorn and holly-tree;
The west wind breathes upon them, pure and cold,
And wolves still dread Diana roaming free
In secret woodland with her company.
'Tis thought the peasants' hovels know her rite
When now the wolds are bathed in silver light,
And first the moonrise breaks the dusky grey,
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