Once he saw a youth blushing, and addressed him, "Courage, my
boy; that is the complexion of virtue."

Once he saw a youth blushing, and addressed him, "Courage, my
boy; that is the complexion of virtue."

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.

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?

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.

The blush is beautiful, but it is sometimes convenient.
[It., Bello e il rossore, ma e incommodo qualche volta.]

The blush is beautiful, but it is sometimes convenient.
[It., Bello e il rossore, ma e incommodo qualche volta.]

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.

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.

'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.

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.]