10 Famously Gorgeous Love Poems For Your Soul Mate

Nothing gets you feeling romantic quite like a little poetry. And when it comes to your soulmate, the perfect love poem is a search worth doing for any and every love letter.

This person is supposed to be with you until the end of time, so the poem must express those exact feelings you have for each other. But not to fear, we collected a handful of beautiful and yearning soulmate poems to choose from.

Whether it's a slow burn type of love or a whirlwind romance you wish to convey, We have a poem for each and every type of soulmate out there.

Here are ten famous soulmate poems to get you thinking amorous thoughts.

Share them with your sweetie, read them in the bath, and just generally enjoy!

1. "A Red, Red Rose" — Robert Burns

O my Luve’s like a red, red rose

That’s newly sprung in June;

O my Luve’s like the melodie

That’s sweetly played in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonnie 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 melt wi’ The sun;

I will luve thee still, my dear,

While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only Luve,

And fare thee weel awhile!

And I will come again, my Luve,

Tho’ it ware ten thousand mile.

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2. "To A Stranger" — Walt Whitman

PASSING stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,

You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me,

as of a dream,)

I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,

All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate,

chaste, matured,

You grew up with me, were a boy with me, or a girl with me,

I ate with you, and slept with you–your body has become not yours

only, nor left my body mine only,

You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass–you

take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,

I am not to speak to you–I am to think of you when I sit alone, or

wake at night alone,

I am to wait–I do not doubt I am to meet you again,

I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

3. "To Sylvia, To Wed" — Robert Herrick

Let us, though late, at last, my Silvia, wed;

And loving lie in one devoted bed.

Thy watch may stand, my minutes fly post haste;

No sound calls back the year that once is past.

Then, sweetest Silvia, let's no longer stay;

True love, we know, precipitates delay.

Away with doubts, all scruples hence remove!

No man, at one time, can be wise, and love.

4. "In Muted Tone" — Paul Verlaine (translated by Norman R. Shapiro)

Gently, let us steep our love

In the silence deep, as thus,

Branches arching high above

Twine their shadows over us.

Let us blend our souls as one,

Hearts’ and senses’ ecstasies,

Evergreen, in unison

With the pines’ vague lethargies.

Dim your eyes and, heart at rest,

Freed from all futile endeavor,

Arms crossed on your slumbering breast,

Banish vain desire forever.

Let us yield then, you and I,

To the waftings, calm and sweet,

As their breeze-blown lullaby

Sways the gold grass at your feet.

And, when night begins to fall

From the black oaks, darkening,

In the nightingale’s soft call

Our despair will, solemn, sing.

5. "Sonnet 1" — Sir Philip Sidney 

Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show,

That the dear She might take some pleasure of my pain,

Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know,

Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain,—

I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe,

Studying inventions fine, her wits to entertain,

Oft turning others’ leaves, to see if thence would flow

Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sunburned brain.

But words came halting forth, wanting Invention’s stay:

Invention, Nature’s child, fled step-dame Study’s blows,

And others’ feet still seemed but strangers in my way.

Thus great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes,

Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite:

“Fool,” said my Muse to me, “look in thy heart and write.”

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6.  "The Sorrow of True Love" — Edward Thomas

The sorrow of true love is a great sorrow

And true love parting blackens a bright morrow:

Yet almost they equal joys, since their despair

Is but hope blinded by its tears, and clear

Above the storm the heavens wait to be seen.

But greater sorrow from less love has been

That can mistake lack of despair for hope

And knows not tempest and the perfect scope

Of summer, but a frozen drizzle perpetual

Of drops that from remorse and pity fall

And cannot ever shine in the sun or thaw,

Removed eternally from the sun’s law.

7. "When I Was One-and-Twenty" — A.E. Housman

When I was one-and-twenty

I heard a wise man say,

“Give crowns and pounds and guineas

But not your heart away;

Give pearls away and rubies

But keep your fancy free.”

But I was one-and-twenty,

No use to talk to me.

When I was one-and-twenty

I heard him say again,

“The heart out of the bosom

Was never given in vain;

’Tis paid with sighs a plenty

And sold for endless rue.”

And I am two-and-twenty,

And oh, ’tis true, ’tis true.

8. "You, Therefore" — Reginal Shepherd

​You are like me, you will die too, but not today:

you, incommensurate, therefore the hours shine:

if I say to you “To you I say,” you have not been

set to music, or broadcast live on the ghost

radio, may never be an oil painting

or Old Master’s charcoal sketch:

you are a concordance of person, number, voice, 

and place, strawberries spread through your name

as if it were budding shrubs, how you remind me

of some spring, the waters as cool and clear

(late rain clings to your leaves, shaken by light wind),

which is where you occur in grassy moonlight:

and you are a lily, an aster, white trillium or viburnum,

by all rights mine, white star

in the meadow sky, the snow still arriving

from its earthwards journeys, here where there is 

no snow (I dreamed the snow was you, when there was snow),

you are my right, have come to be my night (your body takes on

the dimensions of sleep, the shape of sleep

becomes you): and you fall from the sky with several flowers,

words spill from your mouth in waves, your lips taste like the sea,

salt-sweet (trees and seas have flown away, I call it loving you):

home is nowhere, therefore you,

a kind of dwell and welcome, song after all, 

and free of any eden we can name.

9. "To My Dear and Loving Husband" — Anne Bradstreet

If ever two were one, then surely we.

If ever man were loved by wife, then thee.

If ever wife was happy in a man,

Compare with me, ye women, if you can.

I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold,

Or all the riches that the East doth hold.

My love is such that rivers cannot quench,

Nor ought but love from thee give recompense.

Thy love is such I can no way repay;

The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.

Then while we live, in love let’s so persevere,

That when we live no more, we may live ever.

10. Song: to Celia — Ben Jonson

Come, my Celia, let us prove, 

While we can, the sports of love; 

Time will not be ours forever; 

He at length our good will sever. 

Spend not then his gifts in vain. 

Suns that set may rise again; 

But if once we lose this light, 

’Tis with us perpetual night. 

Why should we defer our joys? 

Fame and rumor are but toys. 

Cannot we delude the eyes 

Of a few poor household spies, 

Or his easier ears beguile, 

So removèd by our wile? 

’Tis no sin love’s fruit to steal; 

But the sweet thefts to reveal, 

To be taken, to be seen, 

These have crimes accounted been.

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Kristen Droesch is a writer who covers love and relationships and quotes content.