#English #Women
Oh, sunny Love! Crowned with fresh flowering May, Breath like the Indian clove, Eyes like the dawn of day; Oh, sunny Love!
Oh, serious eyes! how is it that t… The burning rays, that mine pour i… Still find ye cold, and dead, and… Oh, lifeless eyes! can ye not answ… Oh, lips! whereon mine own so ofte…
Weep’st thou to see the ruin and d… Which Time doth wreak upon earth’… Temples of gods, and palaces of ki… Weep’st thou to see them crumbling… Oh I could show thee such a woful…
Though thou return unto the former… Fields, woods, and gardens, where… In other days, and not a bough, br… Of tree, or meadow, but the same a… As when thou lovedst them in forme…
Wand’ring with thee in the delicio… What visions meet me of those far-… When all my youth’s fresh springs… Lay lock’d beneath the spell of th… Whose blood is in thy veins.—I ga…
Night in her dark array Steals o’er the ocean, And with departed day Hushed seems its motion. Slowly o’er yon blue coast
Life wanes, and the bright sunligh… Sets o’er the mountain-tops, where… O Innocence! O Trustfulness! O… Where are ye all, white-handed sis… Who with me on my way did walk alo…
Come down! from where the everlast… Open their rocky gates to let thee… Child of a thousand rapid running… And still lakes, where the skies t… With thy dark eyes, white feet, an…
I heard youth’s silver clarion cal… And looking forth beheld his flowe… Framed in his shining helmet as he… Sheathed in white armour, full of… Watching the coming of a threat’ni…
The blossoms hang again upon the t… As when with their sweet breath th… Against my casement, on that sunny… When thou, first blossom of my spr… And as I lay, panting from the fi…
We are the ghosts of those small f… That in the opening of the year, ‘Neath rosemary and myrtle bowers, In crimson vests appear. Far, underneath the blue pine wood…
When in my dreams thy lovely face, Smiles with unwonted tender grace, Grudge not the precious seldom che… I know full well, my lady dear! It is no boon of thine.
Oh make not light of love, my lady… For, from that sweetest source dot… All that is likest heaven on earth… Ill it beseems who worthiest love… To scoff at their own worship;—if…
If from the height of that celesti… Where now thou dwell’st, spirit po… Thou yet canst love the race that… How must thou joy, with pleasure n… For thy exalted state, to know how…
Here’s a health to thee, Bard of… To the goblet’s brim we will fill; For all that to life is endearing, Thy strains have made dearer still… Wherever fond woman’s eyes eclipse