The Lovers' Dictionary: A Poetical Treasury of Lovers' Thoughts, Fancies, Addresses, and Dilemmas .... |
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Страница 2
1 So it is when the mind is imbued With a well - judging taste from above , Then ,
whether embellished or rude , ' Tis nature alone that we love . The achievements
of art may amuse , May even our wonder excite , But groves , hills , and valleys ...
1 So it is when the mind is imbued With a well - judging taste from above , Then ,
whether embellished or rude , ' Tis nature alone that we love . The achievements
of art may amuse , May even our wonder excite , But groves , hills , and valleys ...
Страница 8
Stone walls do not a prison make , Nor iron bars a cage ; Minds innocent and
quiet take That for an hermitage : If I have freedom in my love , And in my soul am
free ; Angels alone , that soar above , Enjoy such liberty . Richard Lovelace . 6.
Stone walls do not a prison make , Nor iron bars a cage ; Minds innocent and
quiet take That for an hermitage : If I have freedom in my love , And in my soul am
free ; Angels alone , that soar above , Enjoy such liberty . Richard Lovelace . 6.
Страница 16
1 I know not if thou wast most fair And best of womankind ; Or whether earth yet
beareth fruits more rare Of heart and mind ; TO ME , I know , thou wert the fairest ,
Kindest , dearest , That heaven to man in mercy ever gave , And more than man ...
1 I know not if thou wast most fair And best of womankind ; Or whether earth yet
beareth fruits more rare Of heart and mind ; TO ME , I know , thou wert the fairest ,
Kindest , dearest , That heaven to man in mercy ever gave , And more than man ...
Страница 17
It never through my mind had past The time would e'er be o'er , And I on thee
should look my last , And thou shouldst smile no more . And still upon that face I
look , And think ' twill smile again ; And still the thought I will not brook That I must
...
It never through my mind had past The time would e'er be o'er , And I on thee
should look my last , And thou shouldst smile no more . And still upon that face I
look , And think ' twill smile again ; And still the thought I will not brook That I must
...
Страница 52
Aye , let the thick mist cloak thy mind , And champ the bit of bitter thought , Than
break the bonds that ought to bind , And sell the love the dead hath bought . 2 Go
, pine and ponder o'er the past , Or laugh in some mad heartless mood , For thou
...
Aye , let the thick mist cloak thy mind , And champ the bit of bitter thought , Than
break the bonds that ought to bind , And sell the love the dead hath bought . 2 Go
, pine and ponder o'er the past , Or laugh in some mad heartless mood , For thou
...
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angels beauty birds bless bliss bloom bosom breast breath bright brow charms cheek clouds cold dark dear death deep delight doth dream earth eyes face fair faith fancy fear feel flame flowers fond forget gentle give grace grow hair hand happy hast hath hear heart heaven hope hour kind kiss lady leaves light lips live look lost love thee love's lover maid maiden Mary meet mind morning move ne'er never night o'er once PAGE pain passion pleasure pride reason rest rose round sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song soon sorrow soul speak spirit spring star sweet tears tell tender thee thine thing thou art thought true truth turn voice weep wife wings wish woman young youth
Популярни откъси
Страница 172 - SHE was a phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament ; Her eyes as stars of twilight fair ; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn ; A dancing shape, an image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
Страница 4 - DRINK to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Страница 405 - And I will make thee beds of roses, And a thousand fragrant posies : A cap of flowers, and a kirtle, Embroider"d all with leaves of myrtle.
Страница 7 - When Love with unconfine'd wings Hovers within my Gates ; And my divine Althea brings To whisper at the Grates : When I lie tangled in her hair, And fetter'd to her eye ; The Birds, that wanton in the Air, Know no such Liberty.
Страница 63 - Favours to none, to all she smiles extends ; Oft she rejects, but never once offends. Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers strike, And, like the sun, they shine on all alike. Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride, Might hide her faults, if Belles had faults to hide ; If to her share some female errors fall, Look on her face, and you'll forget them all.
Страница 316 - Prison WHEN Love with unconfined wings Hovers within my gates, And my divine Althea brings To whisper at the grates — When I lie tangled in her hair And fettered to her eye, The birds that wanton in the air Know no such liberty.
Страница 306 - Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell : Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it ; for I love you so That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot If thinking on me then should make you woe. O, if...
Страница 352 - Thou whose locks outshine the sun, Golden tresses, wreathed in one, As the braided streamlets run ! Standing, with reluctant feet, Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet ! Gazing, with a timid glance, On the brooklet's swift advance, On the river's broad expanse ! Deep and still, that gliding stream Beautiful to thee must seem, As the river of a dream.
Страница 80 - GO, lovely rose ! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be.
Страница 250 - At cards for kisses — Cupid paid; He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows, His mother's doves, and team of sparrows; Loses them too; then down he throws The coral of his lip, the rose Growing on's cheek (but none knows how), With these, the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin; All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes, She won, and Cupid blind did rise. O Love! has she done this to thee? What shall, alas! become of me? THE SONGS OF BIRDS What bird so sings, yet...