The Lovers' Dictionary: A Poetical Treasury of Lovers' Thoughts, Fancies, Addresses and Dilemmas ... ...Cassell, 1867 - 789 páginas |
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Página xxv
... bliss Charles , must I say , what strange it seems to say . Cherry ripe , ripe , ripe , I cry ! Come , all ye youths , whose hearts e'er bled .. Come , gentle God of soft desire Come here , fond youth , whoe'er thou be Come in the ...
... bliss Charles , must I say , what strange it seems to say . Cherry ripe , ripe , ripe , I cry ! Come , all ye youths , whose hearts e'er bled .. Come , gentle God of soft desire Come here , fond youth , whoe'er thou be Come in the ...
Página xxvi
... bliss 151 Hail ! thou fairest of all creatures 378 Hard is the fate of him who loves 256 Hark , how the bashful moon in pain ... 70 Hark , through the sacred silence of the night 226 Hast thou forgot me ? Thou who hast departed 313 Hast ...
... bliss 151 Hail ! thou fairest of all creatures 378 Hard is the fate of him who loves 256 Hark , how the bashful moon in pain ... 70 Hark , through the sacred silence of the night 226 Hast thou forgot me ? Thou who hast departed 313 Hast ...
Página xxix
... bliss 170 Love refines .. .Back of Title Love steals unheeded o'er the tranquil mind 397 Love still has something of the sea 275 Love , strong as death , is dead 592 Love , when ' tis true , needs not the aid 451 Love with a lady ...
... bliss 170 Love refines .. .Back of Title Love steals unheeded o'er the tranquil mind 397 Love still has something of the sea 275 Love , strong as death , is dead 592 Love , when ' tis true , needs not the aid 451 Love with a lady ...
Página 16
... bliss the power to bless ; Constant and true , Content , if to thy lot the world should bring Enduring suffering ; Unhappy , if permitted but to share Part of my griefs , wouldst both our burthens bear . My joy , my solace , and my ...
... bliss the power to bless ; Constant and true , Content , if to thy lot the world should bring Enduring suffering ; Unhappy , if permitted but to share Part of my griefs , wouldst both our burthens bear . My joy , my solace , and my ...
Página 46
... bliss , and bloom , How warm is thy heart , and cold its doom- How tender thy form , and thy being how gay , Mid the many snares that thy steps belay ! Sweet woman ! this eye has wept for thee When only the angels and God could see ...
... bliss , and bloom , How warm is thy heart , and cold its doom- How tender thy form , and thy being how gay , Mid the many snares that thy steps belay ! Sweet woman ! this eye has wept for thee When only the angels and God could see ...
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The Lovers' Dictionary: A Poetical Treasury of Lovers' Thoughts, Fancies ... J. H. Vista completa - 1867 |
Términos y frases comunes
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
Pasajes populares
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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...
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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...