'Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades so
fast,
But the tender bloom of read more

'Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades so
fast,
But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth itself be past.

I ask, that I might waken reverence,
And bid the cheek be ready with a blush
Modest read more

I ask, that I might waken reverence,
And bid the cheek be ready with a blush
Modest as morning when she coldly eyes
The youthful Phoebus,
Which is that god in office, guiding men?

Blushing is the colour of virtue.

Blushing is the colour of virtue.

A blush is no language: only a dubious flag-signal which may
mean either of two contradictories.

A blush is no language: only a dubious flag-signal which may
mean either of two contradictories.

We griev'd, we sigh'd, we wept; we never blushed before.

We griev'd, we sigh'd, we wept; we never blushed before.

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.

I pity bashful men, who feel the pain
Of fancied scorn and undeserved disdain,
And bear the read more

I pity bashful men, who feel the pain
Of fancied scorn and undeserved disdain,
And bear the marks upon a blushing face,
OF needless shame, and self-impos'd disgrace.

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.

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!