The Lovers' Dictionary: A Poetical Treasury of Lovers' Thoughts, Fancies, Addresses and Dilemmas ... ...Cassell, 1867 - 789 страници |
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Страница xvi
... pride of love ....... The proposal ...... The proudest lady The purity of love ..... Leigh Hunt 575 . Chris . Marlow 407 ..... O . W. Holmes 355 ... A . Cunningham 86 56 224 .Barry Cornwall 285 ... W . Hay 566 Mrs. Hemans 439 ..... L ...
... pride of love ....... The proposal ...... The proudest lady The purity of love ..... Leigh Hunt 575 . Chris . Marlow 407 ..... O . W. Holmes 355 ... A . Cunningham 86 56 224 .Barry Cornwall 285 ... W . Hay 566 Mrs. Hemans 439 ..... L ...
Страница xxiv
... pride of my song ! 297 And when thou breath'st , the winds are ready straight 321 289 And wilt thou leave me thus ? .... An infant when it gazes on a light 482 536 Arabian fiction never filled the world As Cupid in Cythera's grove ...
... pride of my song ! 297 And when thou breath'st , the winds are ready straight 321 289 And wilt thou leave me thus ? .... An infant when it gazes on a light 482 536 Arabian fiction never filled the world As Cupid in Cythera's grove ...
Страница xxv
... pride Bid me not go where neither suns nor showers Blest as th ' immortal gods is he Bow the head , thou lily fair Brimful of anger , not of love By all the sweet saints in the Missal of Love ... 102 By every sweet tradition of true ...
... pride Bid me not go where neither suns nor showers Blest as th ' immortal gods is he Bow the head , thou lily fair Brimful of anger , not of love By all the sweet saints in the Missal of Love ... 102 By every sweet tradition of true ...
Страница xxxiii
... pride The golden sun that brings the day The landscape hath not lost its look The lovely Delia smiles again ! ... 590 514 551 116 339 200 287 481 132 259 The merchant to secure his treasure The mist is gone that bleared mine eyes 421 ...
... pride The golden sun that brings the day The landscape hath not lost its look The lovely Delia smiles again ! ... 590 514 551 116 339 200 287 481 132 259 The merchant to secure his treasure The mist is gone that bleared mine eyes 421 ...
Страница xxxiv
... pride . ' Tis sweet to hear ..... 319 363 435 524 ' Tis sweeter than all else below ' Tis true , I did forget my name 251 275 To heal the wound the bee had made . 275 To make my lady's obsequies 587 To night ! to night ! what memories ...
... pride . ' Tis sweet to hear ..... 319 363 435 524 ' Tis sweeter than all else below ' Tis true , I did forget my name 251 275 To heal the wound the bee had made . 275 To make my lady's obsequies 587 To night ! to night ! what memories ...
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angels Barry Cornwall beam beauty beauty's birds bless blest bliss bloom blush bosom bowers breast breath bright brow charms cheek Chidden clouds Cupid dark dear death delight doth dream earth eyes face fair faith fancy fear feel flame flowers fond forget gaze gentle glow grace grief hair happy hast hath heart heaven hope hour Hymen James Hogg kiss lady lassie life's light lips live lonely look love thee love's lover maid maiden Mary meet mind morning N. P. Willis ne'er never night nymph o'er pain pale passion Percy Bysshe Shelley pleasure pride pride 26 rapture rose SECTION SECTION OF PAGE shine sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song SONNET sorrow soul spirit star sweet tears tell tender thine thou art thought thy love tongue Twas voice weep wife wings woman words young youth
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Страница 168 - 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 xxxvi - 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 401 - 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 3 - 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 59 - 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 312 - 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 302 - 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 348 - 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 76 - 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 246 - 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...