85 Deep Short Soulmate Poems (+ My #1 Favorite)

Embark on an enchanting odyssey through a handpicked collection of soul-stirring short poems dedicated to soulmates, meticulously categorized to touch every facet of human connection.

From soulmate poems brimming with love and devotion for a cherished wife to those that exquisitely capture the essence of soulmates sealing their bond in a wedding’s sacred vows.

Lose yourself in the mesmerizing artistry of these poems, where emotions intertwine with words, forging a timeless tribute to the soulmate’s eternal embrace.

Let’s go!

My #1 Favorite Deep Short Soulmate Poem

stunning woman in white dress and dark pink flowers

“My Heart’s Treasure” by J. G. F. Nicholson

Saw it in the visions of the night—
The jewel-casket of my soul—and gazed
Upon its priceless gems; there rubies blazed
And glittering diamonds flashed back the light;
As planets of the heavens they shone bright
With glowing beauty worthy to be praised,
But, still unsatisfied, my eyes half dazed
Sought out one lustrous pearl that shrank from sight.
Then in my dream (Oh, love, such dreams are true!)
On that pure pearl my gladdened glance I set,
Rejoiced all other jewels to forget,
And cried your name, for, dearest, are not you
Deep hidden in my heart from all men’s view?
My life’s best star, my soul’s one amulet!

Soulmate Poems for Wives

Beautiful blonde woman in a spring garden looking to the side

“At Nightfall” by Charles Harrison Towne

I need so much the quiet of your love
After the day’s loud strife;
I need your calm—all other things above
After the stress of life.
I crave the haven that in your dear heart lies,
After all toil is done;
I need the star-shine of your heavenly eyes,
After the day’s great sun.

“The Spring of Love” by Stopford A. Brooks

A little sun, a little rain,
O soft wind blowing from the West,
And woods and fields are sweet again
And Warmth within the mountain’s breast.
A little love, a little trust,
A soft impulse, a sudden dream,
And life as dry as desert dust,
Is fresher than a mountain stream.

“Sonnet” by William Wordsworth

If it be true that any beauteous thing
Raises the pure and just desires of man
From earth to God, the eternal Fount of all,
Such I believe my love: for as in her
So fair, in whom I all beside forget,
I view the gentle work of her Creator,
I have no care for any other thing,
Whilst thus I love. Nor is it marvellous,
Since the effect is not of my own power,
If the soul doth, by nature tempted forth,
Enamoured through the eyes,
Repose upon the eyes which it resembleth,
And through them riseth to the primal love,
As to its end, and honors in admiring:
For who adores his Maker must needs love his work.

Beautiful young woman in gorgeous blue long dress sitting in a vintage room

“Ah, be not false” by Richard Watson Gilder

Ah, be not false, sweet Splendor!
Be true, be good;
Be wise as thou art tender;
Be all that Beauty should.

Not lightly be thy citadel subdued;
Not ignobly, not untimely.
Take praise in solemn mood;
Take love sublimely.

“Happy Love” by Charles Mackay

Since the sweet knowledge I possess
That she I love is mine,
All nature throbs with happiness,
And wears a face divine.
The woods seem greener than they were,
The skies are brighter blue;
The stars shine clearer, and the air
Lets finer sunlight through.
Until I loved, I was a child,
And sported on the sands;
But now the ocean opens out,
With all its happy lands.

“Love’s Calendar” by T. B. Aldrich

The Summer comes and the Summer goes;
Wild flowers are fringing the dusty lanes,
The swallows go darting through fragrant rains,
Then, all of a sudden—it snows.

Dear Heart, our lives so happily flow,
So lightly we heed the flying hours.
We only know Winter is gone—by the flowers,
We only know Winter is come—by the snow.

Beautiful young girl under the flowering pink tree

“Think of Me, Dearest” by Charles Fenno Hoffman

Think of me, dearest, when round thee smiling
Are eyes that melt while they gaze on thee;
When words are winning, and looks are wiling,
And those words and looks, of others, beguiling
Thy fluttering heart from love and me.
Let me come true in thy thoughts in that hour;
Let my trust and my faith—my devotion—have power,
When all that can lure to thy young soul is nearest,
To summon each truant thought back to me, dearest.

“To Lucy” by Fred Henderson

Give me thy love, and I will ask
No other meed of fame ;
To praise thee, dearest, is my task,
To win thine heart, my aim.

Though many listen to the tone
The nightingale doth raise,
He sings to please his love alone,
Nor cares for other’s praise.

“When She Comes Home” by James Whitcomb Riley

When she comes home again! A thousand ways
I fashion to myself the tenderness
Of my glad welcome; I shall tremble—yes;
And touch her, as when first in the old days
I touched her girlish hand, nor dared upraise
Mine eyes, such was my faint heart’s sweet distress.
Then silence and the perfume of her dress;
The room will sway a little, and a haze
Cloy eyesight—soulsight, even— for a space;
And tears—; yes and the ache here in the throat,
To know that I so ill-deserve the place
Her arms make for me; and the sobbing note
I stay with kisses, ere the tearful face
Again is hidden in the old embrace.

Groom hugs bride tender standing in the golden light of evening

“In the Evening” by Hamilton Aidé

O love, when life was young, I knew
But little what you were to be,—
A light more bounteous to me,
While lengthening shadows grew.
Have I been silent, Love, or cold?
It may be you have little guessed
All the strong love, half unexpressed,
Stronger, as I grew old.

But, Darling, when the day is done,
And we together walk at peace,
In that bright world, where sorrows cease,
Beyond the set of sun:
What best of me you brought to light
On this dark earth shall there expand,
And each shall wholly understand
What now is hid from sight.

“Transformation” by George A. Dennison

Only a hut, as mean, to Thee,
As any hovel in the land;
A palace fair it is to me,
For there I dared to kiss thy hand.

Ah, sweet! if that can work for me
A change so wonderful as this,
The whole wide world a heaven will be,
When I thy lovely lips may kiss.

“Oh, No—Not E’en When First We Loved” by Thomas Moore

Oh, no—not e’en when first we loved,
Wert thou as dear as now thou art;
Thy beauty then my senses moved,
But now thy virtues bind my heart.
What was but Passion’s sigh before,
Has since been turn’d to Reason’s vow;
And, though I then might love thee more,
Trust me, I love thee better now.

Although my heart in earlier youth
Might kindle with more wild desire,
Believe me, it has gain’d in truth
Much more than it has lost in fire.
The flame now warms my inmost core
That then but sparkled o’er my brow,
And, though I seem’d to love thee more,
Yet, oh, I love thee better now.

lady in a red dress standing on the shore of a misty lake

“Winter Sunshine” by Anonymous

Shine brighter than the sun in heaven, O eyes,
beloved so long!
All blessed gifts that can be given, to thee, dear
child, belong;
Thine eyes hold all my sunshine, my heaven is all
in thee;
I ask no other happiness, when thy dear face I see.
Oh, fair and sweet are summer flowers, but sweeter
still art thou;
I hold them dear, the bright June hours, but I am
gladder now;
Through storm and snow and rain I come where
thou, my darling, art;
I am not cold nor weary when I hold thee to my
heart!

“A Serenade” by E. C. Pinkney

Look out upon the stars, my love,
And shame them with thine eyes,
On which, than on the lights above,
There hang more destinies.
Night’s beauty is the harmony
Of blending shades and light;
Then, lady, up, — look out, and be
A sister to the night!

Sleep not! thine image wakes for aye
Within my watching breast;
Sleep not! — from her soft sleep should fly,
Who robs all hearts of rest.
Nay, lady, from thy slumbers break,
And make this darkness gay,
With looks whose brightness well might
make Of darker nights a day.

“A Question” by H. I. D. Ryder

My heart, I will put thee a question,
Say, what is love, I entreat?
Two souls with one thought between them,
Two hearts with a single beat.
And say whence love comes hither?
Here he is, we know, that is all.
When he goes tell me how and whither?
If he goes, ‘t was not love at all.
And what love loves most purely?
The love that has no self quest.
And where is the deepest loving
Where love is silentest.
And when is love at its richest?
When most it has given away.
And what is the tongue love useth?
The love that it cannot say.

Beautiful lady wearing white dress is standing alone next to the ocean

“Love and Absence” by James Ashcroft Noble

Let it not grieve thee, dear, to hear me say
‘Tis false that absence maketh the fond heart
More fond; that when alone, and far apart
From thee, I love thee more from day to day.
Not so; for then my heart would ever pray
For longer separation, that I might
In absence from thee gain the utmost height
Of love unrealised; nor would I stay
In my swift course, but ever onward press,
Until mine eager hand should touch the goal
Of possible passion. Did I love thee less,
Then might I love thee more ; but now my soul
Is filled throughout with perfect tenderness;
No part of me thou hast, but the full whole.

“When Thou Art Near Me” by Lady John Scott

When thou art near me,
Sorrow seems to fly,
And then I think, as well I may,
That on this earth there is no one
More blest than I.

But when thou leav’st me,
Doubts and fears arise,
And darkness reigns,
Where all before was light.
The sunshine of my soul
Is in those eyes,
And when they leave me
All the world is night.

But when thou art near me,
Sorrow seems to fly,
And then I feel, as well I may,
That on this earth there dwells not one
So blest as I.

“The Love That Lives For Aye” by Samuel Minturn Peck

Wandered through a dreary land
I Before our life paths met;
Life’s guerdons bright escaped my hand,
Or vanished in regret.
You came and chased the clouds away,
My silver stir of morn,
And ushered in the peerless day
My dearest hope was born.
If not for me the sweet love hid
Within your gracious heart;
If fate should frown on me and bid
My new-found hope depart,
Ah, do not deem all solace fled,
Or think my love can die
Till memory’s lamp shall cease to shed
The light of days gone by.

Young attractive girl in a yellow dress holding a bouquet of yellow flowers

“To Anne” (Costello, Translator) by Clément Marot

When thou art near to me, it seems
As if the sun along the sky,
Though he awhile withheld his beams,
Burst forth in glowing majesty:
But like a storm that lowers on high,
Thy absence clouds the scene again;—
Alas! that from so sweet a joy
Should spring regret so full of pain!

“The Light of Love” by John Hay

Each shining light above us
Has its own peculiar grace;
But every light of heaven
Is in my darling’s face.

For it is like the sunlight,
So strong and pure and warm,
That folds all good and happy things,
And guards from gloom and harm.

And it is like the moonlight,
So holy and so calm;
The rapt peace of a summer night,
When soft winds die in balm.

And it is like the starlight;
For, love her as I may,
She dwells still lofty and serene
In mystery far away.

“Good Night” by Anonymous

Good night! Good night ! Ah, good the night
That wraps thee in its silver light,
Good night! No night is good for me
That does not hold a thought of thee.
Good night.

Good night ! Be every night as sweet
As that which made our love complete,
Till that last night when death shall be
One brief “Good night!” for thee and me.
Good night!

A beautiful young tender girl in an evening long green dress stands with large white orchids

“The Portrait” (Costello, Translator) by Clément Marot

This dear resemblance of thy lovely face,
‘Tis true, is painted with a master’s care;
But one far better still my heart can trace,
For Love himself engraved the image there.
Thy gift can make my soul blest visions share;
But brighter still, dear love, my joys would shine,
Were I within thy heart impressed so fair,
As true, as vividly, as thou in mine!

“Pure and True and Tender” by H.

Pure and true and tender
My love must be;
Handsome, tall, and slender
My love may be:
But if the first be his
Who loveth me,
My heart will rest in bliss
And constancy.

With manly words and daring
My love must woo;
With polished tones and bearing
My love may woo:
But ever dear and sweet
The words will be
My lover’s lips repeat
For only me.

“Who has not looked upon her brow” (Costello, Translator) by Pierre Rogers

Who has not looked upon her brow
Has never dreamed of perfect bliss;
But once to see her is to know
What beauty, what perfection, is.

Her charms are of the growth of heaven,
She decks the night with hues of day:
Blest are the eyes to which ’tis given
On her to gaze the soul away!

From “Songs and Ballads” by Matthew Prior

Accept, my Love, as true a heart
As ever lover gave;
‘Tis free (it vows) from any art,
And proud to be your slave.
Then take it kindly, as ’twas meant,
And let the giver live,
Who, with it, would the world have sent,
Had it been his to give.
And, that Dorinda may not fear
I e’er will prove untrue,
My vow shall, ending with the year,
With it begin anew.

“The Clover Blossoms” by Oscar Laighton

The clover blossoms kiss her feet,
She is so sweet,
While I who may not kiss her hand
Bless all the wild flowers in the land.

Soft sunshine falls across her breast,
She is so blest,
I’m jealous of its arms of gold;
Oh, that these arms her form might fold!

Gently the breezes kiss her hair,
She is so fair!
Let flowers and sun and breeze go by,
O dearest! Love me or I die.

“Songs” by Richard Watson Gilder

I
Not from the whole wide world I chose thee
Sweetheart, light of the land and the sea !
The wide, wide world could not inclose thee,
For thou art the whole wide world to me.

II
Years have flown since I knew thee first,
And I know thee as water is known of thirst ;
Yet I knew thee of old at the first sweet sight,
And thou art strange to me, Love, to-night.

Soulmate Poems for Weddings

fairy tale princess luxury bride in the castle

“Destiny” by Edwin Arnold

Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours soul,
Each choosing each through all the weary hours,
And meeting strangely at one sudden goal.
Then blend they, like green leaves with golden flowers,
Into one beautiful and perfect whole;
And life’s long night is ended, and the way
Lies open onward to eternal day.

“Twin Stars Aloft” by Charles Kingsley

Twin stars, aloft in ether clear,
Around each other roll alway,
Within one common atmosphere
Of their own mutual light and day.

And myriad happy eyes are bent
Upon their changeless love alway;
As strengthened by their one intent,
They pour the flood of life and day.

So we, through this world’s waning night,
Shall, hand in hand, pursue our way;
Shed round us order, love, and light,
And shine unto the perfect day.

“Love’s Immortality” by Robert Southey

They sin who tell us Love can die.
With life all other passions fly,
All others are but vanity.
In Heaven Ambition cannot dwell,
Nor Avarice in the vaults of hell ;
Earthly these passions of the earth,
They perish where they have their birth,
But Love is indestructible.
Its holy flame for ever burneth,
From Heaven it came, to Heaven returneth ;
Too oft on earth a troubled guest,
At times deceived, at times opprest,
It here is tried and purified,
Then hath in Heaven its perfect rest :
It soweth here with toil and care,
But the harvest-time of Love is there.

A girl on a horse with white angel wings at a horse

“And in that twilight hush, God drew their hearts” by Lucy Larcom

And in that twilight hush, God drew their hearts
Indissolubly close. For what is love
But his most perfect weaving, – intertwine
Of the soul’s deathless fibres threading in
Our human lives, one weft with the divine.

“On A Cyclamen” by Edwin Arnold

Plucked at Cana of Galilee and presented to a bride.

Only a flower! but, dear, it grew
On the green mountains which en-ring
Kana-el-Jelil; looking to
The village and the little spring!
The Love which did those bridals bless
Ever and ever on you shine!
Make happier all your happiness,
And turn its water into wine!

“Where We Love Is Home” by Oliver Wendell Holmes

Where we love is home,
Home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts,
Though o’er us shines the jasper-lighted dome:—
The chain may lengthen but it never parts!

Lovely young lady wearing elegant white dress enjoying the beams

“Love” by Ben Jonson

There is no life on earth but being in love!
There are no studies, no delights, no business,
No intercourse, or trade of sense, or soul,
But what is love! I was the laziest creature,
The most unprofitable sign of nothing,
The veriest drone, and slept away my life
Beyond the dormouse, till I was in love!
And now I can outwake the nightingale,
Outwatch an usurer, and outwalk him too!
Stalk like a ghost that haunted ‘ bout a treasure.
And all that fancied treasure, it is love!

“Love” by Lord Byron

Yes, Love indeed is light from Heaven,
A spark of that immortal fire
With angels shared, by Allah given,
To lift from earth our low desire.
Devotion wafts the soul above,
But Heaven itself descends in Love.
A feeling from the Godhead caught,
To wean from self each sordid thought!
A ray of Him who formed the whole;
A glory circling round the soul!

“Proposal” by Bayard Taylor

The violet loves a sunny bank,
The cowslip loves the lea,
The scarlet creeper loves the elm ;
But I love— thee.

The sunshine kisses mount and vale,
The stars, they kiss the sea,
The west winds kiss the clover bloom,
But I kiss— thee.

The oriole weds his mottled mate,
The lily’s bride o’ the bee;
Heaven’s marriage ring is round the earth—
Shall I wed thee?

“Sonnet 116” by William Shakespeare

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand’ring bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me prov’d,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.

“Sonnets from the Portuguese: VI” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand
Henceforward in thy shadow. Nevermore
Alone upon the threshold of my door
Of individual life, I shall command
The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand
Serenely in the sunshine as before,
Without the sense of that which I forbore, ..
Thy touch upon the palm. The widest land
Doom takes to part us, leaves thy heart in mine
With pulses that beat double. What I do
And what I dream include thee, as the wine
Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue
God for myself, He hears that name of thine,
And sees within my eyes, the tears of two.

“Sonnets from the Portuguese: XIV” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

If thou must love me, let it be for nought
Except for love’s sake only. Do not say
I love her for her smile … her look … her way
Of speaking gently, … for a trick of thought
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of pleasant ease on such a day’—
For these things in themselves, Belovèd, may
Be changed, or change for thee,—and love, so wrought,
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity’s wiping my cheeks dry,—
A creature might forget to weep, who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!
But love me for love’s sake, that evermore
Thou may’st love on, through love’s eternity.

Sensual gothic woman in a long gorgeous black dress

“Sonnets from the Portuguese: XXXIX” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Because thou hast the power and own’st the grace
To look through and behind this mask of me,
(Against which, years have beat thus blanchingly,
With their rains,) and behold my soul’s true face,
The dim and weary witness of life’s race,—
Because thou hast the faith and love to see,
Through that same soul’s distracting lethargy,
The patient angel waiting for a place
In the new Heavens,—because nor sin nor woe,
Nor God’s infliction, nor death’s neighbourhood,
Nor all which others viewing, turn to go,
Nor all which makes me tired of all, self-viewed,—
Nothing repels thee, . . . Dearest, teach me so
To pour out gratitude, as thou dost, good!

“Sonnets from the Portuguese: XXXVIII” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

First time he kissed me, he but only kissed
The fingers of this hand wherewith I write;
And ever since, it grew more clean and white.
Slow to world-greetings, quick with its “O, list,”
When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst
I could not wear here, plainer to my sight,
Than that first kiss. The second passed in height
The first, and sought the forehead, and half missed,
Half falling on the hair. O beyond meed!
That was the chrism of love, which love’s own crown,
With sanctifying sweetness, did precede
The third upon my lips was folded down
In perfect, purple state; since when, indeed,
I have been proud and said, “My love, my own.”

“Sonnets from the Portuguese: XLIII” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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 everyday’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
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.

Blue evening sky hangs over the tender woman with angel wings

Sonnet I: “My Love, I have no fear that thou shouldst die” by James Russell Lowell

My Love, I have no fear that thou shouldst die;
Albeit I ask no fairer life than this,
Whose numbering-clock is still thy gentle kiss,
While Time and Peace with hands unlockèd fly,—
Yet care I not where in Eternity
We live and love, well knowing that there is
No backward step for those who feel the bliss
Of Faith as their most lofty yearnings high:
Love hath so purified my being’s core,
Meseems I scarcely should be startled, even,
To find, some morn, that thou hadst gone before;
Since, with thy love, this knowledge too was given,
Which each calm day doth strengthen more and more,
That they who love are but one step from Heaven.

From the “Examen Miscellaneum” by Charles Sackville, Earl of Dorset

The fire of love in youthful blood,
Like what is kindled in brushwood,
But for a moment burns;
Yet in that moment makes a mighty noise;
It crackles, and to vapor turns,
And soon itself destroys.

But when crept into agèd veins
It slowly burns, and then long remains,
And with a silent heat,
Like fire in logs, it glows and warms ’em long,
And though the name be not so great,
Yet is the heat as strong.

“Woman’s Will” by John Godfrey Saxe

Men, dying, make their wills, but wives
Escape a work so sad;
Why should they make what all their lives
The gentle dames have had?

gorgeous woman in unique head wreath and white dress

“Wedded” by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

A solemn thing it was, I said,
A woman white to be,
And wear, if God should count me fit,
Her hallowed mystery.

A timid thing to drop a life
Into the purple well,
Too plummetless that it come back
Eternity until.

“Wedding-Night” by George Parsons Lathrop

At night, with shaded eyes, the summer moon
In tender meditation downward glances
At the dark earth, far-set in dim expanses,
And, welcomer than blazoned gold of noon,
Down through the air her steady lights are strewn.
The breezy forests sigh in moonlit trances,
And the full-hearted poet, waking, fancies
The smiling hills will break in laughter soon.

Oh thus, thou gentle Nature, dost thou shine
On me to-night. My very limbs would melt,
Like rugged earth beneath yon ray divine,
Into faint semblance of what they have felt:
Thine eye doth color me, O wife, O mine,
With peace that in thy spirit long hath dwelt!

“A Rosary” by Owen Innsly

Like pearls that form a rosary,
So lie in shining rows for me,
Strung on a golden thread of Time,
The precious hours I know with thee.

And, filled with love and praise of thee,
As one who tells his rosary,
I count upon the beads of Time
The benisons thou bringest me.

Oh! may such hours still dawn for me.
So rich in love, so filled with thee,
And glisten on the robe of Time
A never-ending rosary.

greek goddess woman in white dress in park nature fashion summer

“One Way of Love” by Owen Innsly

To love thee, sweet, is as if one should love
A marble statue of perfected form,
Which, on the spot that hot lips lie above,
A tiny spot, grows for an instant warm:
The moment passed, straightway ’tis cold again,
Returning to its first proud lifeless grace;
Keeping no memory of the close embrace,
Nor from the warm red lips one scarlet stain.
But what of that? Why should I be distressed
Though thou art cold as stone? Let me be brave
If but for once, and love for nothing save
For love’s sake only; for he loveth best
And brightest does his flame of passion burn
Who giveth all things asking no return.

“To Eva” by Ralph Waldo Emerson

O fair and stately maid, whose eyes,
Were kindled in the upper skies
At the same torch that lighted mine;
For so I must interpret still
Thy sweet dominion o’er my will,
A sympathy divine.

Ah! let me blameless gaze upon
Features that seem at heart my own;
Nor fear those watchful sentinels,
Who charm the more their glance forbids,
Chaste-glowing, underneath their lids,
With fire that draws while it repels.

“Fast Anchored, Eternal, O Love!” by Walt Whitman

Fast-anchored, eternal, O love! O woman I love!
O bride! O wife! more resistless than I can
tell, the thought of you!
Then separate, as disembodied or another born,
Ethereal, the last athletic reality, my consolation,
I ascend, I float in the regions of your love,
O man, O sharer in my roving life.

young beautiful couple hugging amid lilac flowers

“Lovers” by Matthew Arnold

Two young fair lovers,
Where the warm June wind,
Fresh from the sunny fields,
Plays fondly round them,
Stand, tranced in joy,

With sweet, join’d voices,
And with eyes brimming ;
“Ah, ” they cry, “Destiny,
Prolong the present!
Time, stand still here!”

“Love Notes” by William Ernest Henley

The nightingale has a lyre of gold,
The lark’s is a clarion call,
And the blackbird plays but a box-wood flute,
But I love him best of all.

For his song is all of the joy of life,
And we in the mad spring weather,
We two have listened till he sang
Our hearts and lips together.

“A Vow To Love Faithfully, Howsoever He Be Rewarded” by Henry Howard Earl of Surrey

Set me whereas the sun doth parch the green,
Or where his beams do not dissolve the ice;
In temperate heat, where he is felt and seen;
In presence prest of people, mad, or wise;
Set me in high, or yet in low degree;
In longest night, or in the shortest day;
In clearest sky, or where clouds thickest be;
In lusty youth, or when my hairs are gray:
Set me in heaven, in earth, or else in hell,
In hill, or dale, or in the foaming flood;
Thrall, or at large, alive whereso I dwell,
Sick, or in health, in evil fame or good,
Her’s will I be ; and only with this thought
Content myself, although mychance be nought.

“Eros” by Ralph Waldo Emerson

The sense of the world is short,
Long and various the report,
To love and be beloved;
Men and gods have not outlearned it ;
And, how oft so’er they’ve turned it,
‘T will not be improved.

Poems About Soulmates That Can’t Be Together

Mysterious woman in a long red dress sitting alone in the forest

“Self-Recompensed” by Carl Spencer, C. S. Brandow

Love me not best, O tender heart and true!
I am not good or great enough to be
God’s ultimate and perfect gift to thee;
Yet thine I am, thus sealed through and through,
And I will love thee in a way half new
To this poor world, where love is seldom free;
Not with a love which thou must share with me,
But as the ministering angels do.
Love me not best, for I am not thy mate,
Yet I am all as rich with lesser gain;
Thou canst not give me, dear, a gift so small
But that my glory in it shall be great.
Oh, never be it said that love was vain!
What if it hath not, when itself is all!

“Early Love” by Samuel Daniel

Ah, I remember well (and how can I
But evermore remember well?) when first
Our flame began, when scarce we knew what was
The flame we felt; when as we sat and sighed,
And looked upon each other, and conceived
Not what we ailed, yet something we did ail,
And yet were well, and yet we were not well,
And what was our disease we could not tell.
Then would we kiss, then sigh, then look; and thus,
In that first garden of our simpleness,
We spent our childhood. But when years began
Would she with sterner looks, with graver brow,
Check my presumption and my forwardness!
Yet still would give me flowers, still would show
What she would have me, yet not have me know.

“Rubies” by Walter Savage Landor

Often have I heard it said,
That her lips were ruby-red;
Little heed I what they say, —
I have seen as red as they,
Ere she smiled on other men,
Real rubies were they then.
When she kissed me once in play,
Rubies were less bright than they,
And less bright were those which shone
In the palace of the sun.
Will they be as bright again?
Not if kissed by other men.

Young beautiful woman dressed in a leather wear lying on the ground

“Though Lost to Sight, To Mem’ry Dear” by Anonymous

Sweetheart, good-bye! The fluttering sail
Is spread to waft me far from thee,
And soon before the fav’ring gale
My ship shall bound upon the sea.
Perchance, all desolate and forlorn,
These eyes shall miss thee many a year,
But unforgotten every charm,
Though lost to sight, to mem’ry dear.
Sweetheart, good-bye! one last embrace!
Oh, cruel Fate, true souls to sever!
Yet in this heart’s most sacred place
Thou, thou alone shall dwell for ever!
And still shall recollection trace,
In Fancy’s mirror, ever near,
Each smile, each tear, that form, that face, –
Though lost to sight, to mem’ry dear.

“Ashes of Roses” by Elaine Goodale Eastman

Soft on the sunset sky
Bright daylight closes,
Leaving, when light doth die,
Pale hues that mingling lie,—
Ashes of roses.

When love’s warm sun is set,
Love’s brightness closes;
Eyes with hot tears are wet,
In hearts there linger yet
Ashes of roses.

“Light” by Francis W. Bourdillon

The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.

The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one;
Yet the light of a whole life dies
When love is done.

“Since There’s No Help, Come Let Us Kiss and Part” by Michael Drayton

Since there’s no help, come, let us kiss and part,
Nay, I have done, you get no more of me;
And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart,
That thus so cleanly I myself can free.
Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows;
And when we meet at any time again,
Be it not seen in either of our brows,
That we one jot of former love retain.
Now at the last gasp of love’s latest breath,
When, his pulse failing, passion speechless lies,
When faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And innocence is closing up his eyes,
Now if thou would’st, when all have given him over,
From death to life thou might’st him yet recover!

“Is It Good-Bye” by William Ernest Henley

A Wink from Hesper falling
Fast in the wintry sky
Comes through the even blue,
Dear, like a word from you.
Is it good-bye?

Across the miles between us,
I send you sigh for sigh.
Good night, sweet friend, good night;
Till life and all take flight,
Never good-bye.

“The Last Lover” by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps

Come thou , the last, best lover!
For life hath been a rover
From vision unto vision—the highest heart could see.
I seek the truest lover!
No less than he can move her
Whose human faith did perish of its constancy!

Oh, come! thou Awful Lover!
Draw near, and close and cover
The trembling lips that ope not to any cry but this:
Death is the dearest lover!
Death is the kindest lover!
Nor can the breaking heart trust any troth but his.

A girl walks through the meadow with a range of mountains behind her

“Love’s Imagining” by Hopestill Goodwin

Dear love, I sometimes think how it would be
If thou shouldst love me: if, on such a day,
O day of wonder! thou shouldst come and say,
I love thee; or but let me guess thy plea—
If once thine eyes should brighten suddenly;
If once thy step should hasten or delay
Because of me; if once thy hand should stay
A needless instant in my own! Ah , me!
From such imaginings I wake and start ,
And dull and worthless life’s endeavours seem
Before the tender beauty of my dream—
And then I whisper my impatient heart,
“Be still, be comforted, O heart of mine;
Thou art not all bereft; the dream is thine.”

“Oh! To See Him Once Again” by Arthur Grey Butler

I know it will not ease the smart;
I know it will increase the pain;
‘Tis torture to a wounded heart;
Yet, oh! to see him once again.

Tho’ other lips be pressed to his,
And other arms about him twine,
And tho’ another reign in bliss
In that true heart that once was mine;

Yet, oh! I cry it in my grief,
I cry it blindly in my pain,
I know it will not bring relief,
Yet, oh! to see him once again.

“Song” (Costello, Translator) by Charles D’Orléans

Wilt thou be mine? dear love, reply,—
Sweetly consent, or else deny:
Whisper softly, none shall know,—
Wilt thou be mine, love?—ay or no?

Spite of fortune, we may be
Happy by one word from thee:
Life flies swiftly; ere it go,
Wilt thou be mine, love?—ay or no?

young beautiful blonde girl in a red dress in the summer

“Madrigal” by William Shakespeare

Take, oh, take those lips away
That so sweetly were forsworn,
And those eyes, the break of day,
Lights that do mislead the morn:
But my kisses bring again,
Bring again—
Seals of love, but seal’d in vain,
Seal’d in vain!

“Absence” by E. Taylor from the German

If I a small bird were,
And little wings might bear,
I’d fly to thee:
But vain those wishes are:
Here, then, my rest shall be.

When far from thee I bide,
In dreams still at thy side
I’ve talked with thee;
And when I woke, I sighed,
Myself alone to see.

No hour of wakeful night
But teems with thoughts of light,—
Sweet thoughts of thee,—
As when, in hours more bright,
Thou gav’st thy heart to me.

“Separation” by Francis Kazinezi

Ever absent, ever near
Still I see thee, still I hear;
Yet I cannot reach thee, dear.

Beautiful sensual women with white horse

“Absence” by Anonymous

When I think on the happy days
I spent wi’ you, my dearie;
And now that lands between us lie,
How can I be but eerie!

How slow ye move, ye heavy hours,
As ye were wae and weary!
It was na sae ye glinted by
When I was wi’ my dearie.

“Song” by William Congreve

False though she be to me and love,
I’ll ne’er pursue revenge;
For still the charmer I approve,
Though I deplore her change.
In hours of bliss we oft have met,
They could not always last;
And though the present I regret,
I’m grateful for the past.

“Song” by Thomas Campbell

Withdraw not yet those lips and fingers
Whose touch to mine is rapture’s spell ;
Life’s joy for us a moment lingers,
And death seems in the word ―Farewell.

Lady in a luxury lush pastel green dress sitting in the woods

“Life” by Unknown

We meet and we part; the world is wide;
We journey onward side by side
A little way, and then again
Our paths diverge; a little pain,
A silent yearning of the heart
For what had grown of life a part,
A feeling of somewhat bereft,
A closer clasp on what is left,
A shadow passing o’er the sun,
Then gone, and light again has come.
We meet and part, and then forget,
And life holds blessings for us yet.

“Though Cruel Fate” by Robert Burns

Though cruel Fate should bid us part,
As far’s the Pole and Line,
Her dear idea round my heart
Should tenderly entwine.

Though mountains frown and deserts howl,
And oceans roar between;
Yet, dearer than my deathless soul
I still would love my Jean.

Soulmate Poems for Best Friends

female angel holding bow and arrow in the sky

“The Arrow and the Song” by Longfellow

I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I know not where!
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.
I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong
That it can follow the flight of song?
Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.

“Forbearance” by Emerson

Hast thou named all the birds without a gun?
Loved the wild-rose, and left it on its stalk?
At rich men’s tables eaten bread and pulse?
Unarmed, faced danger with a heart of trust?
And loved so well a high behavior,
In man or maid, that thou from speech refrained,
Nobility more nobly to repay?
O, be my friend, and teach me to be thine!

“If you and I…” by Anonymous

“If you and I—just you and I—
Should laugh instead of worry;
If we should grow—just you and I—
Kinder and sweeter hearted,
Perhaps in some near by and by
A good time might get started;
Then what a happy world ‘twould be
For you and me—for you and me!”

A beautiful lady in a gray dress walks against a mountain range

“High thoughts and noble in all lands” by Richard Burton

High thoughts and noble in all lands
Help me: my soul is fed by such
But ah, the touch of life and hands,
The human touch!
Warm, vital, close, life’s symbols dear,
These need I most, and now, and here.

“We just shake hands at meeting” by Gerald Massey

We just shake hands at meeting
With many that come nigh;
We nod the head in greeting
To many that go by—
But welcome through the gateway
Our old friends and true;
Then hearts leap up, and straightway
There’s open house for you,
Old friends,
There’s open house for you!

“To The Silent One” by Emanuel Geibel

Ah, leave to other maidens
Fair greeting, sweet replies;
Thou art my lovely Silence,
With thy clear, friendly eyes.

The eyes, so true, so tender,
They tell me, day by day,
More of thy deepest heart, love,
Than lips could ever say.

nymphs are dressed in similar purple dresses, with lush skirts relaxing in the spring garden

“Love and Friendship” by William Leggett

The birds, when winter shades the sky,
Fly o’er the seas away,
Where laughing isles in sunshine lie,
And summer breezes play;

And thus the friends that flutter near
While fortune’s sun is warm,
Are startled if a cloud appear,
And fly before the storm.

But when from winter’s howling plains
Each other warbler’s past,
The little snow-bird still remains,
And chirrups midst the blast.

Love, like that bird, when friendship’s throng
With fortune’s sun depart,
Still lingers with its cheerful song,
And nestles on the heart.

“Love Doth to Her Eyes Repair” by Frederick Rückert

Why ask of others what they cannot say,—
Others who for thy good have little care?
Come close, Dear Friend, and learn a better way,—
Look in my eyes, and read my story there.

Dost not thine own proud wit, —’tis idle dreaming;
The common gossip of the street forbear;
Nor even trust my acts of surface seeming,—
Ask only of my eyes; my truth is there.

My lips refuse an answer to thy boldness,
Or with false, cruel words deny the prayer.
Believe them not; I hate them for their coldness!
Look in my eyes; my Love is written there.