My Love is Like A Red Rose

By Robert Burns

O’ my luve is like a red, red rose,
That’s newly sprung in June;
My love is like the melodie,
That’s sweetly played in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonny lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melts wi’ the sun;
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only love!
And fare the weel, awhile!
And I will come again, my love,
Though it were ten thousand mile.

Heartprints By The Sea

By Hope

I was lost for words,

Where can they be found?

As I strolled by the shore,

I took a look around.

Sitting here all alone,

As I gaze the ocean blue.

Looking at the far horizon,

I was thinking of you.

Words left unspoken,

Since we are miles apart.

So I wrote upon the sand,

Feelings of my heart.

Words I have written,

In heartprints by the sea.

As ocean waves whisper,

Love flows endlessly.

A Sonnet of the Moon

by Charles Best

Look how the pale queen of the silent night
Doth cause the ocean to attend upon her,
And he, as long as she is in his sight,
With her full tide is ready her to honor.
But when the silver waggon of the moon
Is mounted up so high he cannot follow,
The sea calls home his crystal waves to moan,
And with low ebb doth manifest his sorrow.
So you that are the sovereign of my heart
Have all my joys attending on your will;
My joys low-ebbing when you do depart,
When you return their tide my heart doth fill.
So as you come and as you do depart,
Joys ebb and flow within my tender heart.

Sonnet XVIII

by William Shakespeare

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate;
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometimes decline,
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;
Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st;
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.