Lullaby

This is almost the definitive poem on modern love. Those two opening lines say everything: “Lay your sleeping head, my love/Human on my faithless arm.” This isn't romantic, chivalric, ideal love. This is love for our times, where the speaker is illusionless about love. 
His awareness of the fragility of this love makes him appreciate it all the more. 

The whole poem is shot through with this feeling - melancholic, tender and intensely aware, of the whole world around them, of the pains and the costs of living in this world, and yet with an insistence that the present be appreciated: "but from this night/Not a whisper, not a thought/Not a kiss nor look be lost."