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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.
The light upon her face
Shines from the windows of another world.
Saints only have such faces.
The light upon her face
Shines from the windows of another world.
Saints only have such faces.
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.
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.
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.
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.
And to his eye
There was but one beloved face on earth,
And that was shining on read more
And to his eye
There was but one beloved face on earth,
And that was shining on him.
The face the index of a feeling mind.
The face the index of a feeling mind.