The silk star-braided coverlid Unto her limbs itself doth mould Languidly ever, and amid Her full black ringlets downward rolled. Glows forth each softly shadowed arm, With bracelets of the diamond bright; Her constant beauty doth inform Stillness with love and day with light. She sleeps! her breathings are not heard, The fragrant tresses are not stirr'd, TENNYSON. Loveliness is ne'er so Lovely as when 't is veiled in blushes. The Lily's spotless hue is not so witching As the ruby tint of modesty. MRS. JAMIESON. SONG. THE lark now leaves his wat'❜ry nest, And to implore your light, he sings, Awake, awake, the morn will never rise, Till she can dress her beauty at your eyes. The merchant bows unto the seaman's star, The ploughman from the sun his season takes; But still the lover wonders what they are, Who look for day before his mistress wakes. Awake, awake, break through your vails of lawn! Then draw your curtains, and begin the dawn. DAVENANT. MADRIGAL. Do but look on her eyes, they do light And from her arch'd brow such a grace As alone there triumphs to the life, All the gain, all the good, of the elements' strife. Have you seen but a bright lily grow Or have smelt o' the bud o' the briar? Or the nard i' the fire? Or have tasted the bag o' the bee, Oh! so white! oh! so soft! oh! so sweet is she! BEN JONSON. LOVE is like the glass That throws its own rich colour over all, And makes all beautiful. The morning looks Its very loveliest when the fresh air Has tinged the cheek we love with its glad red; And the hot noon flits by most rapidly The beating of the heart; upon the air LANDON. THE PICTURE OF T. C. IN A PROSPECT OF FLOWERS. SEE with what simplicity This nymph begins her golden days! In the green grass she loves to lye, And there with her fair aspect tames The wilder flow'rs, and gives them names; But only with the roses plays, And them does tell What colours best become them, and what smell. Who can foretell for what high cause, See his bow broke, and ensigns torn. Appease this virtuous enemy of man! O then let me in time compound, And parly with those conquering eyes; Ere they have try'd their force to wound, |