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agaio ahore am'roos amhrosial Aod oo Aod wheo aoother arms aroeed dear delight dowo e'eo eaeh ealled eease eharms eheehs eoeetless eoold er'ry erer erery eroel eyes fair fiod fragraot gare geotle gire glowiog graee halmy hiss haod hare heaoteoos heaoty heareo heart heeo hliss hloom homid hoor hosom hoth howerer hreast hreath hright Jopiter KISS lihe loog lore lore's lorers maid maoy miod mioe mooro moroiog motoal o'er oame oeeh oeetar oerer oight oo thy ooee ooly oomher opoo oymph passioo pleasore polse prore Proserpioe qoeeo raio raptore rieh riew roeed rosy searee seeh seose shoold sigh soft sool sooo soowy spriog sweet tahe teoder thao thee theo thioe thoo thoo art thoogh thoosaod thos thrilliog thy lips toeeh toogoe toro traosport Veoos waotoo wheo whieh wiods wiog withoot woold yoor yooth
Page 216 - each foot a hand had seen. And when in mind I did consent To follow this my fancy's will; And when my heart did first relent To taste such bait my life to spill
Page 129 - in classic hours of old. Some fair Athenian girl, perhaps. Upon her hand this gem displayed, Nor thought that time's eternal lapse Should see it grace a lovelier maid. Look, darling, what a sweet design, The more we
Page 185 - Glossy ringlets all behind, Streaming buxom to the wind; When along the lawn she bounds, Light as hind before the hounds; And the youthful ring she fires. Hopeless in their fond desires. As her flitting feet advance. Wanton in the winding dance. Tell me, shepherds, have
Page 208 - I wish I were the lily's leaf To fade upon that bosom warm; There I should wither, pale and brief. The trophy of thy fairer form.
Page 215 - tongue did talk of love, To thee that hast true love down thrown] I would my lips, and tongue also. Had then been dumb, no deal to go.
Page 216 - And when my hands have handled aught That thee hath kept in memory; And when my feet have gone and sought To find and get thee company;
Page 130 - And thus, like her, my hand I lay Upon thy wreathed hair behind: And thus I fee! thee breathing sweet, As slow to mine thy head
Page 170 - And from your wishful eyes shall stream The dewy light of passion's flame ; While now and then a look shall glance. Your senses lost in am'rous trance, That fain my rudeness would reprove. Yet plainly tells how strong you love: The roses,