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Girls blush, sometimes, because they are alive,
Half wishing they were dead to save the shame.
The read more
Girls blush, sometimes, because they are alive,
Half wishing they were dead to save the shame.
The sudden blush devours them, neck and brow;
They have drawn too near the fire of life, like gnats,
And flare up bodily, wings and all.
Where now I have no one to blush with me,
To cross their arms and hang their heads with read more
Where now I have no one to blush with me,
To cross their arms and hang their heads with mine,
To mask their brows and hide their infamy;
But I alone, alone must sit and pine,
Seasoning the earth with show'rs of silver brine,
Mingling my talk with tears, my grief with groans,
Poor wasting monuments of lasting moans.
Innocence is not accustomed to blush.
[Fr., L'innocence a rougir n'est point accoutumee.]
Innocence is not accustomed to blush.
[Fr., L'innocence a rougir n'est point accoutumee.]
His kindled duty kindled her mistrust,
That two red fires in both faces blazed.
She thought he read more
His kindled duty kindled her mistrust,
That two red fires in both faces blazed.
She thought he blushed as knowing Tarquin's lust,
And, blushing with him, wistly on him gazed;
Her earnest eye did make him more amazed.
Such a blush
In the midst of brown was born,
Like red poppies grown with corn.
Such a blush
In the midst of brown was born,
Like red poppies grown with corn.
Yet will she blush, here be it said,
To bear her secrets so bewrayed.
Yet will she blush, here be it said,
To bear her secrets so bewrayed.
We griev'd, we sigh'd, we wept; we never blushed before.
We griev'd, we sigh'd, we wept; we never blushed before.
I have marked
A thousand blushing apparitions
To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames
read more
I have marked
A thousand blushing apparitions
To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames
In angel whiteness beat away those blushes,
And in her eye there hath appeared a fire
To burn the errors that these princes hold
Against her maiden truth.
So sweet the blush of bashfulness,
E'en pity scarce can wish it less!
So sweet the blush of bashfulness,
E'en pity scarce can wish it less!