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The Romance of Nature: Or, the Flower-Seasons Illustrated
No preview available - 2016
appear Autumn bank beautiful bells birds bloom blossoms blue blushing bower breath breeze bright bring called close clouds colour comes daisy dance dear deep delicate delight doth e'en earth face fair Fairy fall fancy feel field flowers fragrant fresh garden gather gaze gentle give glad graceful green grow hand hath head heart hills illustrative kiss Lady leaves less light Lily live look loveliness meet merry nature never o'er pass perfume plant PLATE poems Poets pride pure purple Queen rich Rose round scene season seemed seen sing smiles soft song spread Spring stem Summer sweet tears tell thee things thou thought trees true Violet wandering wave wealth wild wind wings Winter yellow young
Page 116 - The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour which doth in it live. The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye As the perfumed tincture of the roses...
Page 65 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! Here will we sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears; soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold.
Page 24 - At a fair vestal, throned by the west ; And loosed his love-shaft smartly from his bow, As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts : But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft Quenched in the chaste beams of the watery moon ; And the imperial votaress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
Page 51 - FAIR Daffodils! we weep to see You haste away so soon; As yet the early-rising sun Has not attained his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song; And, having prayed together, we Will go with you along.
Page 116 - Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells, If not from my love's breath ? The purple pride Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dy'd. The lily I condemned for thy hand, And buds of marjoram had stol'n thy hair ; The roses fearfully on thorns did stand, One blushing shame, another white despair...
Page 116 - When summer's breath their masked buds discloses : But, for their virtue only is their show, They live unwoo'd and unrespected fade, Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so ; Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made : And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth, When that shall fade, my verse distils your truth.
Page 56 - DUKE'S PALACE. [Enter DUKE, CURIO, LORDS; MUSICIANS attending.] DUKE. If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken and so die.— That strain again;— it had a dying fall; O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.— Enough; no more; 'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
Page 34 - Winter suddenly was changed to Spring ; And gentle odours led my steps astray, Mixed with a sound of waters murmuring Along a shelving bank of turf, which lay Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling Its green arms round the bosom of the stream, But kibsed it and then fled, as thou mightest in dream.
Page 116 - That fairer seemes the lesse ye see her may. Lo ! see soone after how more bold and free Her bared bosome she doth broad display ; Lo ! see soone after how she fades and falls away. So passeth, in the passing of a day, Of mortall life the leafe, the bud, the flowre...