Cheek . . .
Flushing white and mellow'd red;
Gradual tints, as when there glows
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Cheek . . .
Flushing white and mellow'd red;
Gradual tints, as when there glows
In snowy milk the bashful rose.

A face that had a story to tell. How different faces are in this
particular! Some of them speak read more

A face that had a story to tell. How different faces are in this
particular! Some of them speak not. They are books in which not
a line is written, save perhaps a date.

There be many that say, Who will shew us any good? Lord, lift
thou up the light of thy read more

There be many that say, Who will shew us any good? Lord, lift
thou up the light of thy countenance upon us.

Oh! could you view the melody
Of every grace,
And music of her face,
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Oh! could you view the melody
Of every grace,
And music of her face,
You'd drop a tear,
Seeing more harmony
In her bright eye,
Than now you hear.

These faces in the mirrors
Are but the shadows and phantoms of myself.

These faces in the mirrors
Are but the shadows and phantoms of myself.

Her face betokened all things dear and good,
The light of somewhat yet to come was there
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Her face betokened all things dear and good,
The light of somewhat yet to come was there
Asleep, and waiting for the opening day,
When childish thoughts, like flowers would drift away.

I am who I am and I say what I think. I'm not putting a face on for the record.

I am who I am and I say what I think. I'm not putting a face on for the record.

As clear and as manifest as the nose in a man's face.

As clear and as manifest as the nose in a man's face.

And her face so fair
Stirr'd with her dream, as rose-leaves with the air.

And her face so fair
Stirr'd with her dream, as rose-leaves with the air.