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.
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'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.
Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite,
Lay by all nicety and prolixious blushes,
That banish what read more
Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite,
Lay by all nicety and prolixious blushes,
That banish what they sue for: redeem thy brother
By yielding up thy body to my will,
Or else he must not only die the death,
But thy unkindess shall his death draw out
To ling'ring sufferance.
We griev'd, we sigh'd, we wept; we never blushed before.
We griev'd, we sigh'd, we wept; we never blushed before.
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.]
Blushing is the colour of virtue.
Blushing is the colour of virtue.
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.
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?
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.
An Arab, by his earnest gaze,
Has clothed a lovely maid with blushes;
A smile within his read more
An Arab, by his earnest gaze,
Has clothed a lovely maid with blushes;
A smile within his eyelids plays
And into words his longing gushes.
