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The quiver of love, a collection of valentines ancient & modern, by B.M ...
Boyd Montgomerie M. Ranking
Visualização completa - 1880
The Quiver of Love, a Collection of Valentines Ancient & Modern, by B.M ...
Boyd Montgomerie M. Ranking
Não há visualização disponível - 2018
Author bear beauty bird blue bosom breast breath bright charm cheeks cloth extra cold Coloured Crown dare dark dear death deep delight desire disdain doth dream earth eyes face fair faith farewell fate fear fire flame flowers forget gentle give golden gone grace grief grow hair hand hath hear heart heaven hope hour Illustrated joys keep kind kiss Lady leaves light lips live look lost love thee Love's lover meet mind move nature ne'er never night once pain passion pity rest rise rose sighs sing sleep smile soft song soul sound Spring star stay summer sweet tears tell thee thine thing Thomas thou thoughts thy love true Valentine wind wings wound young
Página 137 - A belt of straw and ivy buds With coral clasps and amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love.
Página 155 - I'll never love thee more. As Alexander I will reign, And I will reign alone ; My thoughts did evermore disdain A rival on my throne. He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch To gain or lose it all.
Página 61 - Go, lovely Rose! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. 226 Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired: Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired.
Página 90 - Shall I compare thee to a summer's day ?. Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough Winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd...
Página 73 - Love in my bosom like a bee Doth suck his sweet: Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah, wanton, will ye?
Página 24 - Being your slave, what should I do but tend Upon the hours and times of your desire \ I have no precious time at all to spend, Nor services to do, till you require.
Página 38 - Which may gain her name of best; If she be not such to me, What care I how good she be? 'Cause her fortune seems too high, Shall I play the fool, and die? Those that bear a noble mind, Where they want of riches find, Think what, with them they would do That without them dare to woo; And unless that mind I see, What care I how great she be?
Página 106 - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.