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BABETTE Ballad BARON BEAU birds blow blue bright bring BROCADE Caliph called Child clear comes COUNTESS course Cupid's Alley Cyclops dance dear DENISE Dobson Dolly door doubt dream eyes face fair fall fancies Fate feel friends GEORGE Give goes gone graceful green grew grows hand hard head hear heard hearts hope hour John kind laughing least leaves less letters light lines look Love Love's Maid mean Miss Monsieur morning Muse night NINETTE NINON NOTE o'er once PAGE pain pass Poets poor Porto Bello PRINCESS rhyme Rondeau Rose scarce Seek seemed sing smile soft sometimes song soon Stand stay stirred strange surely sweet tear There's thing thou thought Town true turned vers verse voice Watch write young youth
169 psl. - Crown'd after trial ; sketches rude and faint, But where a passion yet unborn perhaps Lay hidden as the music of the moon Sleeps in the plain eggs of the nightingale.
53 psl. - ... his lordship's levee, He had played for her ladyship's whim, Till the poor little head was heavy, And the poor little brain would swim. And the face grew peaked and eerie, And the large eyes strange and bright, And they said too late " He is weary ! He shall rest for, at least, To-night...
33 psl. - And then the sky so blue! so blue! And when I dropped my immortelle, How the birds sang! [Lifting her apron to her eyes.} This poor Ma'am'selle! M. VIEUXBOIS. You're a good girl, BABETTE, but she, She was an Angel, verily. Sometimes I think I see her yet Stand smiling by the cabinet; And once, I know, she peeped and laughed Betwixt the curtains . . . Where's the draught?
87 psl. - WITH pipe and flute the rustic Pan Of old made music sweet for man ; And wonder hushed the warbling bird, And closer drew the calm-eyed herd, The rolling river slowlier ran. Ah I would, ah ! would, a little span, Some air of Arcady could fan This age of ours, too seldom stirred With pipe and flute...
147 psl. - How fast the time goes ! And a life,- how it grows ! You were scarcely so shy When I saw you last, Rose ! In your bosom it shows There's a guest on the sly ; (How fast the time goes !) Is it Cupid ? Who knows ! Yet you used not to sigh When I saw you last, Rose ! How fast the time goes ! AUSTIN DOBSON.
72 psl. - ... awhile to the prayer of us, Beggars that come from the over-seas! Nothing we ask or of gold or fees; Harry us not with the hounds we pray; Lo, for the surcote's hem we seize, Give us ah! give us but Yesterday!
131 psl. - A SONG OF THE FOUR SEASONS. WHEN Spring comes laughing By vale and hill, By wind-flower walking And daffodil, Sing stars of morning, Sing morning skies, Sing blue of speedwell, And my Love's eyes. When comes the Summer, Full-leaved and strong, And gay birds gossip The orchard long, Sing hid, sweet honey That no bee sips ; Sing red, red roses, And my Love's lips.
71 psl. - URCEUS EXIT." I INTENDED an Ode, And it turned to a Sonnet. It began a la mode, I intended an Ode ; But Rose crossed the road In her latest new bonnet ; I intended an Ode ; And it turned to a Sonnet.
189 psl. - To Paros marble hard The beauty of thy line ; Model thy Satyr's face For bronze of Syracuse ; In the veined agate trace The profile of thy Muse. Painter...