Letitia Elizabeth Landon on Love
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“I loved him too as woman loves — Reckless of sorrow, sin, or scorn.”
“Love is like the glass, That throws its own rich colour over all, And makes all beautiful.”
“You may find many a brighter one Than your own rose, but there are none So true to thee, Love.”
“Love is a pearl of purest hue, But stormy waves are round it; And dearly may a woman rue, The hour that she found it.”
“Love, thou hast hopes like summers, short and bright, Moments of ecstasy, and maddening dreams, Intense delicious throbs!”
“What was our parting ?—one wild kiss, How wild I may not say, One long and breathless clasp, and then As life were past away.”
“And Love is like the lightning in its might, Winging where least bethought its fiery flight, Melting the blade, despite the scabbard's guard.”
“Pattern love-letter — " I — I — I — you — you — you ; you — you — you — I — I — I," garnished with loves and doves ad libitum.”
“And this is Love! Oh! why should woman love; Wasting her dearest feelings, till health, hope, Happiness, are but things of which henceforth She'll only know the name?”
“There was an evil in Pandora's box Beyond all other ones, yet it came forth In guise so lovely, that men crowded round And sought it as the dearest of all treasure. ... The evil's name was Love.”
“Ah! never is that cherished face Banished from its accustomed place— It shines upon my weariest night It leads me on in thickest fight: All that seems most opposed to be Is yet associate with thee— Together life and thee depart, Dream—idol—treasure of my heart.”
“Do any thing but love ; or if thou lovest And art a Woman, hide thy love from him Who thou dost worship ; never let him know How dear he is ; flit like a bird before him, — Lead him from tree to tree, from flower to flower ; But be not won, or thou wilt, like that bird, When caught and caged, be left to pine neglected, And perish in forgetfulness.”
“There are words to paint the misery of love, but none to paint its happiness ; that childish, glad, and confiding time, to which youth gave its buoyancy and hope its colours. Its language repeated, ever seems exaggerated or foolish ; albeit there are none who have not thought such sounds "honey-sweet" in their time. The truth is, we never make for others the allowance we make for ourselves ; and we should deny even our own words, could we hear them spoken by another.”