Elizabeth Barrett Browning says:

What’s the best thing in the world?
June-rose, by May-dew impearled;
Sweet south-wind, that means no rain;
Truth, not cruel to a friend;
Pleasure, not in haste to end;
Beauty, not self-decked and curled
Till its pride is over-plain;
Love, when, so, you’re loved again.

What’s the best thing in the world?
–Something out of it, I think.

Emily Dickinson says:

Bee!
I’m expecting you!
Was saying yesterday
To somebody you know
That you were due –

The frogs got
Home last Week –
Are settled,
And at work –

Birds,
mostly back –
The Clover
Warm and thick –

You’ll get
My letter by
The seventeenth;
Reply Or better,

Be with me

Yours, Fly

Evelyn Scott says:

evelynscott

In most intimate touch we meet,
Lip to lip, Breast to breast,
Sweet.
Suddenly we draw apart
And start.
Like strangers surprised at a road’s turning
We see, I, the naked you;
You, the naked me.
There was something of neither of us
That covered the hours,
And we have only touched each other’s bodies
Through veils of flowers.
But let us smile kindly,
Like those already dead,
On the warm flesh
And the marriage bed.

Annie Winifred Ellerman says:

passionelles

APHRODITE!
Aphrodite of the blue sleep, the bird-black sea,
I thank you that at last my body is at peace.

I toss these flowers from the flowers, your feet,
From the pear buds of your ankles,
The white hyacinths of your limbs.

The love-hour is ended.
Swallow-wings, dreams of a spiked iris,
Gipsy your eyes.

The hollows under your knees are sweet with love.
Your knees are quince-blossoms, bent back by the rain.

Blue of your eyes,
Blue of the Greek seas that has no name,
Am I lifted
To the porch of Aphrodite on your wings?

Blanche Wagstaff says:

BlancheShoemakerWagstaff

“If I think of you,
I quiver from head to foot.

If I think of you
tears flood my eyes.

If I pass you my heart quickens
to suffocation
and the blood seems to leave my body.

If I look into your eyes
a sudden fire burns in my veins.

If I touch you
I am as one possessed with madness;
my arms tremble and
my limbs totter beneath me.

To love you is to suffer
the pangs of an intolerable agony.”