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"When I approach

Her loveliness, so absolute she seems,
And in herself complete, so well to know
Her own; that what she wills to do, or say,
Seems wisest, virtuosest, discreetest, best:
All higher knowledge in her presence falls,
Degraded; wisdom in discourse with her
Loses discountenanced, and like folly shows:
Authority and reason on her wait,

As one intended first, not after made
Occasionally; and, to consummate all,

Greatness of mind, and nobleness, their seat
Build in her loveliest, and create an awe

About her, as a guard angelic placed."

BONNIE JEAN.

"It is na, Jean, thy bonnie face,

Nor shape that I admire,
Altho' thy beauty and thy grace

Might well awake desire.
Something, in ilka part o' thee,

To praise, to love, I find;

But dear as is thy form to me,

Still dearer is thy mind.

MILTON.

Nae mair ungen'rous wish I ha'e,

Nor stronger in my breast,

Than if I canna mak' thee sae,

At least to see thee blest.

Content am I, if Heaven shall give

But happiness to thee;

And as wi thee I'd wish to live,

For thee I'd bear to die."

AWAKE, MY LOVE.

"Awake, my love! ere morning's ray
Throws off night's meed of pilgrim grey;
Ere yet the hare, cowered close from view,
Licks from her fleece the clover dew;
Or wild swan shakes her snowy wings,
By hunters roused from secret springs;
Or birds upon the boughs awake,
Till green Arbigland's woodlands shake!

BURNS.

She combed her curling ringlets down,
Laced her green jupes and clasped her shoon,

And from her home by Preston burn

Came forth the rival light of morn.

The lark's song dropt, now loud, now hush ;The gold-spink answered from the bush,— The plover, fed on heather crop,

Called from the misty mountain top.

D

'Tis sweet, she said, while thus the day
Grows into gold from silvery grey,

To hearken Heaven, and bush and brake,
Instinct with soul of song, awake;-

To see the smoke, in many a wreath,
Stream blue from hall and bower beneath,
Where yon blithe mower hastes along

With glittering scythe and rustic song.

Yes, lovely one! and dost thou mark

The moral of yon caroling lark ?

Tak'st thou from Nature's counsellor tongue

The warning precept of her song?

Each bird that shakes the dewy grove
Warns its wild note with nuptial love—

The bird, the bee, with various sound,

Proclaim the sweets of wedlock 'round."

ALLAN CUNNINGHAM.

LOVE.

"Oh Love, no habitant of earth thou art-
An unseen seraph, we believe in thee,

A faith whose martyrs are the broken heart-
But never yet hath seen, nor e'er shall see

The naked eye, thy form, as it should be;

The mind hath made thee, as it peopled Heaven,

Even with its own desiring phantasy,

And to a thought such shape and image given

As haunts the unquench'd soul-parched-wearied

wrung-and riven."

LOVE.

BYRON.

"The joys of Love, if they should ever last
Without affliction or disquietness,

That worldly chances do amongst them cast,
Would be on earth too great a blessedness;
Liker to Heaven than mortal wretchedness;
Therefore the winged God, to let man weet
That here on earth is no sure happiness,

A thousand sours has temper'd with one sweet
To make it seem more dear and dainty, as is meet."

SPENCER.

TRUE LOVE.

"True Love's the gift which God has given

To man alone beneath the Heaven;

It is not fantasy's hot fire,
Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly;

It liveth not in fierce desire,

With dead desire it doth not die;

It is the secret sympathy,

The silver link, the silken tie,

Which heart to heart, and mind to mind,

In body and in soul combined.”

PERFECT BEAUTY.

"A shape alone let others prize,
And features of the fair;

I look for spirit in her eyes,
And meaning in her air.

A damask cheek, an ivory arm
Shall ne'er my wishes win;

Give me an animated form,

That speaks a mind within.

A soul where awful honour shines,

Where sense and sweetness move,

And angel innocence refines

The tenderness of love.

With power to heighten every joy,
The fiercest rage control,
Diffusing mildness o'er the brow

And raptures through the soul

SCOTT.

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