It is often said that the true subject of the lyric poem is love.

Around 600 BC or so, Sappho, accompanying herself on the lyre, ould have sung her passionate, radically personal, love poetry omen. In our !"st Century, one of the most popular

to her island audience of studious young readings at

eddings and civil partnerships is Sha#espeare$s Sonnet C%&"' ()et me not to the

marriage of true minds admit impediment$. As St. &alentine$s *ay approaches, our boo#shops flirt ith us, displaying their anthologies of love poetry, tempting as heart'shaped bo+es of chocolates ' the contents telling the s eet list of the poets$ names, ,arvell, -erric#, A#hmatova, .mily *ic#inson, Campion, /eats. I came to rite poetry through the reading of it at school 0I eirdly fresh, as ere

blessed in my teachers1 and )ove 2oems, sometimes centuries old, but al ays

definitely my favourite. A love poem in a 3uiet .nglish lesson seemed as startling and e+otic as a ild bird flying in through the classroom indo . .lectrifying, also, as the discovery of the vividly many

se+y poems of Catullus 0as translated by 4ames ,ichie1 in our )atin 5CS. classes. (-o #isses satisfy,6 -o

many are enough and more,6 7ou as# me, )esbia. I reply6 As many as the

)ibyan sands6 Sprin#ling the Cyrenaic shore...$ ,y home or# mar#s shot up. ,any of us probably begin ith the te+tual treasures of the "6th Century hen e thin# of the love

poem in .nglish. 8ot only Sha#espeare$s great sonnets of homose+ual and heterose+ual love, but the poems of 9homas :yatt and Sir 2hilip Sidney, among others; and, later, <obert -erric#. (9hey flee from me, that sometimes did me see#...$ (,y true love hath my heart and I have his...$ (5ather ye rosebuds hile ye may...$ 9hese lines, commonly #no n, appropriately, by heart are among the hat love spea#s in. )onging, desire,

first utterances of our national language of love. 2oetry is

delirium, fulfillment, fidelity, betrayal, absence, estrangement, regret, loss, despair, remembrance... every aspect of love has been celebrated or mourned, praised and preserved in poetry. As readers, e are most li#ely to turn to poetry hen e are in love, or troubled by love, or ish to mar# its

anniversaries, or its private significances. And many of our greatest poets have produced their finest or# hen riting love poems. In the "=th Century, along Andre ith the (s eet disorder$ of the poems of -erric# 0">?"'"6=@1 e find

,arvell$s evergreen (9o -is Coy ,istress$' (An -undred years should go to praise6 9hine

eyes and on thy forehead gaAe;6 9 o hundred to adore each breast;6 But thirty thousand to the

rest...$ ' 3uite probably the best e+ample in literature of a poem into bed. It is 4ohn *onne, ho ever, sheetsB )icence my roving hands, and let them go, Before, behind, bet een, above, belo . C my AmericaD my ne 'found land, ,y #ingdom safest hen ith one man mann$d... ...Eull na#ednessD All joys are due to thee, As souls unbodied, bodies uncloth$d must be... 9he finest love poets of the <omantic period Burns 0"=>?'?61. )i#e Sappho, both poets ho tells us ho

ritten to persuade the beloved

to proceed once successfully bet een the

ere arguably :illiam Bla#e 0"=>='"F!=1 and <obert ere singers of songs, deeply musical in their

relationship to language. (8ever see# to tell thy love,$ Bla#e sings on the page, ()ove that never told can be.$ Burns, one of the most loved poets of any time, possessed 0as not all poets do1 the luc#y gift of memorability in poems li#e (Ae Eond /iss,$ (A <ed <ed <ose$ and (4ohn Anderson ,y 4o.$ 0Cddly though, I ould suggest, not in (Auld )ang Syne$, hich no'one seems to be able to ith a musical memorablility

remember beyond the first verse and the chorus.1 Similarly blessed as :.B. 7eats,

hose legacy of love lyrics include (*o n by the Salley 5ardens,$ (:hen 7ou Are hich as one

Cld,$ (-e :ishes for the Cloths of -eaven,$ and (9he Song of :andering Aengus,$ of the first poems I came to #no by heart as a poetry'mad teenagerB 9hough I am old 9hrough hollo ith andering

lands and hilly lands,

I ill find out here she has gone, And #iss her lips and ta#e her hands; And al# among long dappled grass, And pluc# till time and times are done 9he silver apples of the moon, 9he golden apples of the sun. 9here$s a lovely setting to music of this poem by the great Irish singer'song riter, Christy ,oore. 7eats$ unre3uited love for the beautiful Irish 8ationalist, ,aud 5onne ' she turned do n four proposals of marriage from him ' may have caused (the troubling of his life$ but did provide him ith

a constant ,use. 9homas -ardy, by contrast, made up one unrelenting half of an unimaginably unhappy GF'year marriage before the death of his first ife, .mma, lanced a traumatic remorse

and the dead spouse became ,use for -ardy$s to ering (2oems "?"!'"G$' (:oman much missed, ho you call to me, call to me...$. 8ot great, one imagines, for Elorence *ugdale, his mistress then

second ife, despite the upgrade.

,y o n personal treasures include 2ablo 8eruda$s (9 enty )ove 2oems and a Song of *espair,$ in the "?66 translation by 8athaniel 9arn ' one of the first poetry collections I bought as a student. (I ant to do to you hat Spring does to the cherry trees,$ rote the !0'year old 8eruda in "?!@. 9he

poems today remain as urgently gorgeous as freshly'pic#ed flo ers in the hands. .. 2o ys ,athers$ e+traordinarily beautiful translation, (Blac# ,arigolds$, a free interpretation of the ""th Century Sans#rit, as first published in "?"?. In it, a poet ho is to be e+ecuted for being the illicit

lover of the /ing$s daughter, spends his last night alive recalling their passionate devotion in >0 rapt, ecstatic versesB .ven no If my girl ith lotus eyes came to me again :eary ith the dear eight of young love, Again I ould give her to these starved t ins of arms And from her mouth drin# do n the heavy ine, As a reeling pirate bee in fluttered ease Steals up the honey from the nenuphar. As a poet, I am left stunned And the heavy ith admiration at those (starved t ins of arms$, at that (pirate bee$.

ine, flo ers and honey here remind us of 9he Song of Songs, an enigmatic,

radiantly erotic boo# of ""= verses, glo ing bet een .cclesiastes and Isaiah in the Cld 9estament. 9he Song of Songs, attributed to the poem in ise but promiscuous Solomon, is a fragmentary, dream'li#e

hich language itself seems smitten by love$s e+cess. It has e+erted a profound influence

on love poetry throughout the ages. 9his is from the /ing 4ames version of the Bible ' $I am come into my garden, my sister, my spouse; I have gathered myrrh ith my spice$' and this from oodbine

9ennyson$s (,aud$' (Come into the garden, ,aud6 I am here at the gate alone6 And the spices are afted abroad6And the mus# of the rose is blo n.$ Amen.

Another poetic love'treasure is )ady 5regory$s translation of (*onal Cg$, an anonymous Fth Century Irish poem of love and loss. 9he director 4ohn -uston had a character recite this sublimely, heartbrea#ingly beautiful poem in his marvelous film of 4ames 4oyce$s short masterpiece, (9he *ead$; and although the poem asn$t mentioned in the original story, 4oyce

ould surely have approved. -is o n youthful love lyrics are not as #no n as they might be. (I am t o fools, I #no ,$ rote 4ohn *onne, (for loving and for saying so6 In hining poetry.$

02erhaps a typoH :ine and poetryH1 Cur poets suffer no more than the rest of us in love. 9hey don$t feel more deeply or ma#e better lovers ' one thin#s 3ueasily of ,ilton here. But they are, the best of them, able, as Auden said, to tell us (the truth about love$ in the hard'earned ord'music of

their poems. ()ay your sleeping head, my love,6 -uman on my faithless arm...$ rote Auden again,

long before his poor face resembled (a edding'ca#e left out in the rain.$ And ho ould be .liAabeth Barrett Bro ning$s great sonnet, (-o

ithout

*o I )ove 9heeH$ or the (Bright Star$ of /eats, or

Charlotte ,e $s astonishing, s#e ed love poems, or contemporary love classics li#e Alan 4en#ins$ searing collection, (-arm$H Because it is poets, al ays, dead or alive, rite. Carol Ann *uffy ho loo# in our hearts and