love language? love p o e t r y . . . .
Sunday, 16 February 2014
In Mornigan’s park there is a deer,
Silver horns and golden ear,
Neither fish, flesh, feather, nor bone,
In Mornigan’s park she walks alone.
The Faber Book of Popular Verse
, ed. by Geoffrey Grigson (London: Faber and Faber, 1971), 39.
Monday, 10 February 2014
[My true Love hath my heart,…] by Sir Philip Sidney
My true Love hath my heart, and I have his,
By just exchange, one for the other given:
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss;
There never was a better bargain driven.
His heart in me keeps me and him 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.
His heart his wound receivëd from my sight,
My heart was wounded, with his wounded heart;
For as from me, on him his hurt did light,
So still methought in me his hurt did smart.
Both, equal hurt, in this change sought our bliss:
My true Love hath my heart, and I have his.
Everyman’s Book of English Love Poems
, ed. by John Hadfield (London, Melbourne, Toronto: J M Dent & Sons, 1980), 44.