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.

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.

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.

You have your face bare; I am all face.
[Fr., Vous avez bien la face desouverte; moi je suis read more

You have your face bare; I am all face.
[Fr., Vous avez bien la face desouverte; moi je suis tout face.]

The face the index of a feeling mind.

The face the index of a feeling mind.

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.

Yet even her tyranny had such a grace,
The women pardoned all, except her face.

Yet even her tyranny had such a grace,
The women pardoned all, except her face.

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.

There is a garden in her face,
Where roses and white lilies blow;
A heavenly paradise is read more

There is a garden in her face,
Where roses and white lilies blow;
A heavenly paradise is that place,
Wherein all pleasant fruits do grow.
There cherries grow that none may buy,
Till cherry ripe themselves do cry.