The Lovers' Dictionary: A Poetical Treasury of Lovers' Thoughts, Fancies, Addresses and Dilemmas ... ...

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Cassell, 1867 - English poetry - 789 pages
 

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Page 170 - 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.
Page 2 - 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.
Page 403 - 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.
Page 5 - 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.
Page 61 - 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.
Page 314 - 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.
Page 304 - 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...
Page 350 - 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.
Page 78 - 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.
Page 248 - 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...

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