The Lovers' Dictionary: A Poetical Treasury of Lovers' Thoughts, Fancies, Addresses and Dilemmas ... ...Cassell, 1867 - 789 páginas |
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Página viii
... woman A weary lot is thine ... A wife's appeal to her husband A woman contemplating a household god A woman's love Beatrice Beauty , wealth , and love Bridal ballad .. Bridal song ...... Bless thee Blue - eyed Anne Boldness in love ...
... woman A weary lot is thine ... A wife's appeal to her husband A woman contemplating a household god A woman's love Beatrice Beauty , wealth , and love Bridal ballad .. Bridal song ...... Bless thee Blue - eyed Anne Boldness in love ...
Página xix
... Woman Woman Woman's fidelity Woman's love Woman's love ...... Woman's love ..... Woman's love Woman's inconstancy Women You bid me write H. S. Riddell Barrett 73 ..... W . Herbert 178 ..Barry Cornwall 84 M. A. Browne 254 ..R ...
... Woman Woman Woman's fidelity Woman's love Woman's love ...... Woman's love ..... Woman's love Woman's inconstancy Women You bid me write H. S. Riddell Barrett 73 ..... W . Herbert 178 ..Barry Cornwall 84 M. A. Browne 254 ..R ...
Página xxiv
... woman's face is full of wiles A wife's a man's best piece ; who till he marries Across the waves , away and far 373 604 148 18 548 386 Ah ! the poor shepherd's mournful fate Ah ! youthful love ! thy votarist Alas , alas ! the time draws ...
... woman's face is full of wiles A wife's a man's best piece ; who till he marries Across the waves , away and far 373 604 148 18 548 386 Ah ! the poor shepherd's mournful fate Ah ! youthful love ! thy votarist Alas , alas ! the time draws ...
Página xxvi
... woman's slave confest Frolic virgins once there were .... From place to place forlorn I go . Gather ye rosebuds while ye may Gentle , happy Beatrice Get up , get up , for shame ! the blooming morn .. Give me but thy love , and I ...
... woman's slave confest Frolic virgins once there were .... From place to place forlorn I go . Gather ye rosebuds while ye may Gentle , happy Beatrice Get up , get up , for shame ! the blooming morn .. Give me but thy love , and I ...
Página xxviii
... woman's glass , why should we try 470 If women could be fair , and yet not fond .. 491 If you become a nun , dear ..... 575 I'll bid my hyacinth to blow ... 153 I'll not believe I am not loved 107 I'll sing of heroes and of kings .. 447 ...
... woman's glass , why should we try 470 If women could be fair , and yet not fond .. 491 If you become a nun , dear ..... 575 I'll bid my hyacinth to blow ... 153 I'll not believe I am not loved 107 I'll sing of heroes and of kings .. 447 ...
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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...