Have you ever been captivated by a love that had to stay hidden?
There’s something uniquely powerful about a connection that exists outside the public eye, where every glance and whisper feels charged with meaning.
Here are 10 poems that reveal layers of longing, passion, and the bittersweet nature of love kept in shadows.
Let’s get started!
My favorite poem about secret love
#1 “Secrecy Protested” by Thomas Carew
Fear not, dear love, that I’ll reveal
Those hours of pleasure we two steal;
No eye shall see, nor yet the sun
Descry, what thou and I have done.
No ear shall hear our love, but we
Silent as the night will be;
The god of love himself (whose dart
Did first wound mine and then thy heart),
Shall never know that we can tell
What sweets in stol’n embraces dwell.
This only means may find it out;
If, when I die, physicians doubt
What caused my death, and there to view
Of all their judgements which was true,
Rip up my heart, oh! then, I fear,
The world will see thy picture there.
This poem stands out because it beautifully captures the intimacy and thrill of secret love.
Additionally, the speaker’s assurance that their love will remain hidden adds a layer of intrigue, highlighting the bittersweet nature of such relationships.
Overall, it resonates with anyone who has experienced the complexities of love shrouded in secrecy, making it both relatable and impactful.
9 more poems about secret love
#2 “Secrets” by Bliss Carman (William)
Three secrets that never were said:
The stir of the sap in the spring,
The desire of a man to a maid,
The urge of a poet to sing.
#3 “The Secret” by Friedrich Schiller
She sought to breathe one word, but vainly;
Too many listeners were nigh;
And yet my timid glance read plainly
The language of her speaking eye.
Thy silent glades my footstep presses,
Thou fair and leaf-embosomed grove!
Conceal within thy green recesses
From mortal eye our sacred love!
Afar with strange discordant noises,
The busy day is echoing;
And ‘mid the hollow hum of voices,
I hear the heavy hammer ring.
‘Tis thus that man, with toil ne’er ending
Extorts from heaven his daily bread;
Yet oft unseen the Gods are sending
The gifts of fortune on his head!
Oh, let mankind discover never
How true love fills with bliss our hearts
They would but crush our joy forever,
For joy to them no glow imparts.
Thou ne’er wilt from the world obtain it –
‘Tis never captured save as prey;
Thou needs must strain each nerve to gain it,
E’er envy dark asserts her sway.
The hours of night and stillness loving,
It comes upon us silently –
Away with hasty footstep moving
Soon as it sees a treacherous eye.
Thou gentle stream, soft circlets weaving,
A watery barrier cast around,
And, with thy waves in anger heaving,
Guard from each foe this holy ground!
#4 “Love’s Secret” by William Blake
Never seek to tell thy love,
Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind does move
Silently, invisibly.
I told my love, I told my love,
I told her all my heart;
Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears,
Ah! she did depart!
Soon as she was gone from me,
A traveler came by,
Silently, invisibly
He took her with a sigh.
#5 “February” by Sara Teasdale
They spoke of him I love
With cruel words and gay;
My lips kept silent guard
On all I could not say.
I heard, and down the street
The lonely trees in the square
Stood in the winter wind
Patient and bare.
I heard… oh voiceless trees
Under the wind, I knew
The eager terrible spring
Hidden in you.
#6 “To a Poet” by Richard Le Gallienne
As one, the secret lover of a queen,
Watches her move within the people’s eye,
Hears their poor chatter as she passes by,
And smiles to think of what his eyes have seen;
The little room where love did ‘shut them in,’
The fragrant couch whereon they twain did lie,
And rests his hand where on his heart doth die
A bruised daffodil of last night’s sin:
So, Poet, as I read your rhyme once more
Here where a thousand eyes may read it too,
I smile your own sweet secret smile at those
Who deem the outer petals of the rose
The rose’s heart – I, who through grace of you,
Have known it for my own so long before.
#7 “Secret Love” by John Clare
I hid my love when young till I
Couldn’t bear the buzzing of a fly;
I hid my love to my despite
Till I could not bear to look at light:
I dare not gaze upon her face
But left her memory in each place;
Where eer I saw a wild flower lie
I kissed and bade my love good bye.
I met her in the greenest dells
Where dewdrops pearl the wood blue bells
The lost breeze kissed her bright blue eye,
The bee kissed and went singing by,
A sunbeam found a passage there,
A gold chain round her neck so fair;
As secret as the wild bee’s song
She lay there all the summer long.
I hid my love in field and town
Till een the breeze would knock me down,
The bees seemed singing ballads oer,
The fly’s bass turned a lion’s roar;
And even silence found a tongue,
To haunt me all the summer long;
The riddle nature could not prove
Was nothing else but secret love.
#8 “Hidden Flame” by John Dryden
I feed a flame within, which so torments me
That it both pains my heart, and yet contents me:
‘Tis such a pleasing smart, and I so love it,
That I had rather die than once remove it.
Yet he, for whom I grieve, shall never know it;
My tongue does not betray, nor my eyes show it.
Not a sigh, nor a tear, my pain discloses,
But they fall silently, like dew on roses.
Thus, to prevent my Love from being cruel,
My heart’s the sacrifice, as ’tis the fuel;
And while I suffer this to give him quiet,
My faith rewards my love, though he deny it.
On his eyes will I gaze, and there delight me;
While I conceal my love no frown can fright me.
To be more happy I dare not aspire,
Nor can I fall more low, mounting no higher.
#9 “Sweetest of Maidens, Oh, How Can I Tell” by Louisa May Alcott
Sweetest of maidens, oh, how can I tell
The love that transfigures the whole earth to me?
The longing that causes my bosom to swell,
When I dream of a life all devoted to thee?
#10 “Jenifer’s Love” by Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch
Small is my secret–let it pass–
Small in your life the share I had,
Who sat beside you in the class,
Awed by the bright superior lad:
Whom yet with hot and eager face
I prompted when he missed his place.
For you the call came swift and soon:
But sometimes in your holidays
You meet me trudging home at noon
To dinner through the dusty ways,
And recognized, and with a nod
Passed on, but never guessed–thank God!
Truly our ways were separate.
I bent myself to hoe and drill,
Yea, with an honest man to mate,
Fulfilling God Almighty’s will;
And bore him children. But my prayers
Were yours–and, only after, theirs.
While you–still loftier, more remote,
You sprang from stair to stair of fame,
And you’ve a riband on your coat,
And you’ve a title to your name;
But have you yet a star to shine
Above your bed, as I o’er mine?