Have you ever felt that warm, indescribable feeling that makes your heart race and your world spin?
Love has that magic, and poetry captures it like nothing else.
Here are 10 most endearing poems about being in love, each one a gem that mirror the feeling of being in love with someone that your heart skips a beat.
Let’s dive into the enchanting world of love through poetry!
My favorite poem about being in love
#1 “I Love Thee” by Thomas Hood
I love thee – I love thee!
‘Tis all that I can say; –
It is my vision in the night,
My dreaming in the day;
The very echo of my heart,
The blessing when I pray:
I love thee – I love thee!
Is all that I can say.
I love thee – I love thee!
Is ever on my tongue;
In all my proudest poesy
That chorus still is sung;
It is the verdict of my eyes,
Amidst the gay and young:
I love thee – I love thee!
A thousand maids among.
I love thee – I love thee!
Thy bright hazel glance,
The mellow lute upon those lips,
Whose tender tones entrance;
But most, dear heart of hearts, thy proofs
That still these words enhance,
I love thee – I love thee!
Whatever be thy chance.
The simplicity and repetition of the poem highlight the overwhelming power of love, creating a beautiful rhythm that stays with you.
It also echoes the heart’s deepest sentiments, which made the feeling of being in love understood and cherished.
9 more poems about being in love
#2 “I Want To Go With The One I Love” by Bertolt Brecht
I want to go with the one I love.
I do not want to calculate the cost.
I do not want to think about whether it’s good.
I do not want to know whether he loves me.
I want to go with whom I love.
#3 “Tell me, my heart, if this be love” by George, Lord Lyttelton
When Delia on the plain appears,
Awed by a thousand tender fears,
I would approach, but dare not move;—
Tell me, my heart, if this be love.
Whene’er she speaks, my ravished ear
No other voice than hers can hear;
No other wit but hers approve;—
Tell me, my heart, if this be love.
If she some other swain commend,
Though I was once his fondest friend,
His instant enemy I prove;—
Tell me, my heart, if this be love.
When she is absent, I no more
Delight in all that pleased before,
The clearest spring, the shadiest grove;—
Tell me, my heart, if this be love.
When fond of power, of beauty vain,
Her nets she spread for every swain,
I strove to hate, but vainly strove;—
Tell me, my heart, if this be love.
#4 “Love’s Tenderness” by Richard Le Gallienne
Deem not my love is only for the bloom,
The honey and the marble, that is You;
Tis so, Belov’d, common loves consume
Their treasury, and vanish like the dew.
Nay, but my love’s a thing that’s far more true;
For little loves a little hour hath room,
But not for us their brief and trivial doom,
In a far richer soil our loving grew,
From deeper wells of being it upsprings;
Nor shall the wildest kiss that makes one mouth,
Draining all nectar from the flowered world,
Slake its divine unfathomable drouth;
And, when your wings against my heart lie furled,
With what a tenderness it dreams and sings!
#5 “How Do I Love Thee?” 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 every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
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.
#6 “Love’s Philosophy” by Percy Bysshe Shelley
The fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean;
The winds of heaven mix forever,
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In one another’s being mingle:—
Why not I with thine?
See! the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister flower would be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea:—
What are all these kissings worth,
If thou kiss not me?
#7 “A Dedication” by J. W. Mackail
O sweetest face of all the faces
About my way,
A light for night and lonely places,
A day in day;
If you will touch and take and pardon
What I can give,
Take this, a flower, into your garden,
And bid it live.
It is not worth your love or praises
For aught its own;
Yet Proserpine would smile on daisies
Sicilian-grown;
And so beneath your smile a minute
May this rest too,
Although the only virtue in it
Be love of you.
#8 “Love Thee, Dearest? Love Thee?” by Thomas Moore
Love thee, dearest? love thee?
Yes, by yonder star I swear,
Which thro’ tears above thee
Shines so sadly fair;
Tho’ often dim,
With tears, like him,
Like him my truth will shine,
And–love thee, dearest? love thee?
Yes, till death I’m thine.
Leave thee, dearest? leave thee?
No, that star is not more true;
When my vows deceive thee,
He will wander too.
A cloud of night
May veil his light,
And death shall darken mine–
But–leave thee, dearest? leave thee?
No, till death I’m thine.
#9 “A Love Song” by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Ah, love, my love is like a cry in the night,
A long, loud cry to the empty sky,
The cry of a man alone in the desert,
With hands uplifted, with parching lips,
Oh, rescue me, rescue me,
Thy form to mine arms,
The dew of thy lips to my mouth,
Dost thou hear me?–my call thro’ the night?
Darling, I hear thee and answer,
Thy fountain am I,
All of the love of my soul will I bring to thee,
All of the pains of my being shall wring to thee,
Deep and forever the song of my loving shall sing to thee,
Ever and ever thro’ day and thro’ night shall I cling to thee.
Hearest thou the answer?
Darling, I come, I come.
#10 “Love’s Answer” by Philip Bourke Marston
I said to Love,” Lo, one thing troubles me!
How shall I show the way in which I love?
Is any word, or look, or kiss enough
To show to her my love’s extremity?
What is there I can say, or do, that she
May know the strength and utter depth thereof?
For words are weak, such love as mine to prove,
Though I should pour them forth unceasingly. “
Then fell Love’s smile upon me, as he said,
“Thou art a child in love, not knowing this;
That could she know thy love by word or kiss,
Or gauge it by its show, ’twere all but dead:
For not by bounds, but shoreless distances,
Full knowledge of the sea is compassèd.”