A Vers de Société Anthology |
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Page 5
... hear his falser play , And that he's Venus ' runaway . Ben Jonson . L ROSALIND'S MADRIGAL OVE in my bosom like a bee Doth suck his sweet : Now with his wings he plays with me , Now with his feet . Within mine eyes he makes his nest ...
... hear his falser play , And that he's Venus ' runaway . Ben Jonson . L ROSALIND'S MADRIGAL OVE in my bosom like a bee Doth suck his sweet : Now with his wings he plays with me , Now with his feet . Within mine eyes he makes his nest ...
Page 9
... hear ; your true love's coming , That can sing both high and low : Trip no further , pretty sweeting ; Journeys end in lovers ' meeting , Every wise man's son doth know . What is love ? ' tis not hereafter : Present mirth hath present ...
... hear ; your true love's coming , That can sing both high and low : Trip no further , pretty sweeting ; Journeys end in lovers ' meeting , Every wise man's son doth know . What is love ? ' tis not hereafter : Present mirth hath present ...
Page 31
... hear her than the squeaks Or far famed squalls of Gabrielli . And sparkling wit and steady sense , In that fair form with beauty vie , But tinged with virgin diffidence , And the soft blush of modesty . Had I the treasures of the world ...
... hear her than the squeaks Or far famed squalls of Gabrielli . And sparkling wit and steady sense , In that fair form with beauty vie , But tinged with virgin diffidence , And the soft blush of modesty . Had I the treasures of the world ...
Page 43
' Tis kind winter that I wish for ; - How I long to hear the hail Rattling on deserted pavements , Dancing in the stormy gale ! For I then could see her windows , Watch my darling through each pane Now the lime - trees are in blossom ...
' Tis kind winter that I wish for ; - How I long to hear the hail Rattling on deserted pavements , Dancing in the stormy gale ! For I then could see her windows , Watch my darling through each pane Now the lime - trees are in blossom ...
Page 51
... hear At what gentle seasons Nymphs relent , when lovers near Press the tenderest reasons ? Ah , they give their faith too oft To the careless wooer ; Maidens ' hearts are always soft- Would that men's were truer ! Woo the fair one ...
... hear At what gentle seasons Nymphs relent , when lovers near Press the tenderest reasons ? Ah , they give their faith too oft To the careless wooer ; Maidens ' hearts are always soft- Would that men's were truer ! Woo the fair one ...
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Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
Aimer Arcady Austin Dobson BALLADE beauty Beware bird bliss blue blush bonnet Bouillabaisse breath bright Brighton Pier brown c'est à vivre charming cheek Coquette dainty danced darling dear dimple dress Edmund Clarence Stedman eyes face fair fingers flower fool forget Frederick Locker-Lampson frown Gelett Burgess girl glove gown hair hand handsomest head heart heigh-ho kiss knew lady laughing lips Lisette Long ago look Love's lover maid maiden merry Mortimer Collins never night o'er old Sedan chair Oliver Herford passed passion pray pretty rhyme river I-forget Robert Underwood Johnson rose Saint Valentine scorn Sedan chair sigh Sing heigh-ho smile snow soft song Spring stars summer sweet talk tell tender thee There's thing thou thought town tree Twas Valentine Vers de Société W. E. Henley wear what's whisper wonder words young
Popular passages
Page 19 - 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 xxii - When I use a word," Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a scornful tone, "It means just what I choose it to mean — neither more nor less.
Page 15 - GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying; And this same flower that smiles to-day, To-morrow will be dying. The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, The higher he's a-getting, The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he's to setting. That age is best which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse and worst Times still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, go marry; For, having...
Page 18 - ON A GIRDLE THAT which her slender waist confined Shall now my joyful temples bind : No monarch but would give his crown His arms might do what this has done. It was my Heaven's extremest sphere, The pale which held that lovely deer : My joy, my grief, my hope, my love Did all within this circle move. A narrow compass ! and yet there Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair : Give me but what this ribband bound, Take all the rest the Sun goes round.
Page 125 - TELL me now in what hidden way is Lady Flora the lovely Roman? Where's Hipparchia, and where is Thais, Neither of them the fairer woman? Where is Echo, beheld of no man, Only heard on river and mere, — She whose beauty was more than human? , But where are the snows of yester-year?
Page 79 - Soft is the breath of a maiden's YES: Not the light gossamer stirs with less; But never a cable that holds so fast Through all the battles of wave and blast, And never an echo of speech or song That lives in the babbling air so long ! There were tones in the voice that whispered then You may hear to-day in a hundred men.
Page 45 - JENNY kissed me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in; Time, you thief, who love to get Sweets into your list, put that in: Say I'm weary, say I'm sad, Say that health and wealth have missed me, Say I'm growing old, but add, Jenny kissed me!
Page 3 - 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 8 - CUPID and my Campaspe played 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...
Page 14 - Be she meeker, kinder, than Turtle-dove or pelican, If she be not so to me, What care I how kind she be? Shall a woman's virtues move Me to perish for her love? Or her merits' value known Make me quite forget mine own?