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Anon appears bear Beaumont and Fletcher beauty blue blush breath bright brow Byron charms cheek cheerful comes Crabbe dark deep Dr Syntax dwelling earth eyes face fair fall fate fear feel flowers gentle GENTLEMAN give grace green grow hair half hand happy hast hath He's head heart hills Hogg hope hour John kind LADY leaves light lips live look mild mind Miss Moore morn nature never night o'er pale passing peace poor Pope pride rich rose round Scott seen shade Shakspeare shine side sigh smile Smith soft soul spring stands summer sure sweet T. H. Bayly tell Tennyson thee thine things Thou art thought trees true truth turn wild winds wise woman young youth
Side 88 - 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 'em all.
Side 12 - That hath a mint of phrases in his brain : One, whom the music of his own vain tongue Doth ravish, like enchanting harmony...
Side 93 - I saw her upon nearer view A spirit, yet a woman too ! Her household motions light and free, And steps of virgin liberty ; A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet ; A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food : For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
Side 67 - It is too full o' the milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way : thou wouldst be great ; Art not without ambition, but without The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst highly, That wouldst thou holily ; wouldst not play false, And yet wouldst wrongly win: thou'dst have, great Glamis, That which cries ' Thus thou must do, if thou have it; And that which rather thou dost fear to do Than wishest should be undone.
Side 165 - Methought I heard a voice cry " Sleep no more ! Macbeth does murder sleep" — the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast, — Lady M.
Side 186 - Lo ! here the gentle lark, weary of rest, From his moist cabinet mounts up on high, And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast The sun ariseth in his majesty ; Who doth the world so gloriously behold, That cedar-tops and hills seem burnish'd gold.
Side 175 - tis slander, Whose edge is sharper than the sword ; whose tongue Outvenoms all the worms of Nile ; whose breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world : kings, queens, and states, Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave This viperous slander enters.
Side 184 - And should my youth, as youth is apt I know, Some harshness show, All vain asperities I day by day Would wear away, Till the smooth temper of my age should be Like the high leaves upon the Holly Tree.