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appear beauty birds blush breast breath bright bring dear death delight desire died Donne doth eyes face fair fear fire flame flowers fortune give glory gone grace grief hair hand happy hast hath hear heart heaven honour hope hour Italy kind King kiss known lady late leave letters light lips live look Lord lover married mind mistress morning move Nature never night once pain pass passion pity pleasure poems poet poor praise prove queen reason rest rise roses seems seen shine sigh sight sing smile SONG sonnets sorrow soul spring Stella sweet Swift tears tell thee thine things thou thought took true unto wife wind young youth
Page 351 - 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 346 - She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace; For well she knew I could not choose But gaze upon her face.
Page 336 - Thy silver locks, once auburn bright, Are still more lovely in my sight Than golden beams of orient light, My Mary ! For, could I view nor them nor thee, What sight worth seeing could I see ? The sun would rise in vain for me, My Mary ! Partakers of thy sad decline, Thy hands their little force resign ; Yet gently prest, press gently mine, My Mary!
Page 95 - Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day, As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
Page 324 - I hear her in the tunefu' birds, I hear her charm the air : There's not a bonnie flower that springs By fountain...
Page 223 - Enlarged winds, that curl the flood, Know no such liberty. Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.
Page 322 - The dance gaed thro' the lighted ha', To thee my fancy took its wing, I sat, but neither heard nor saw: Tho' this was fair, and that was braw, And yon the toast of a' the town, I sigh'd and said amang them a'; — "Ye are na Mary Morison!
Page 222 - 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 fetter'd to her eye. The birds that wanton in the air Know no such liberty.