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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While mantling on the maiden's cheek
Young roses kindled into thought.
While mantling on the maiden's cheek
Young roses kindled into thought.
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.
Men blush less for their crimes than for their weaknesses and
vanity.
[Fr., Les hommes rougissent moins de read more
Men blush less for their crimes than for their weaknesses and
vanity.
[Fr., Les hommes rougissent moins de leur crimes que de leurs
faiblesses et de leur vanite.]
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."
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 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?
The rising blushes, which her cheek o'er-spread,
Are opening roses in the lily's bed.
The rising blushes, which her cheek o'er-spread,
Are opening roses in the lily's bed.
'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.
Blushed like the waves of hell.
Blushed like the waves of hell.
