The poetic negligée, by CalebSimpkin and Marshall, 1832 - 262 pàgines |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 35.
Pàgina 5
... night . But where is the tutor for studious gents . Who gives ( con amore ) the first rudiments ? The tender instructress , whose only class books The Malay is the Italian of India beyond the Ganges . Are a red pair of lips , and soft ...
... night . But where is the tutor for studious gents . Who gives ( con amore ) the first rudiments ? The tender instructress , whose only class books The Malay is the Italian of India beyond the Ganges . Are a red pair of lips , and soft ...
Pàgina 9
... night . I know her by the orange - flower , that Hymen only braids- I know her by the robe of lace , that is not worn by maids— I know her by the snowiness of satin shoe and glove , And I know her by the milk - white rose , that's in ...
... night . I know her by the orange - flower , that Hymen only braids- I know her by the robe of lace , that is not worn by maids— I know her by the snowiness of satin shoe and glove , And I know her by the milk - white rose , that's in ...
Pàgina 13
... love , Our homage , our truth , is thy right , Since by day that sweet wreath of enchantment is wove , Which we wear on thy bosom at night . 14 THE WOMAN THAT'S EQUALLED BY NONE . Then whilst 13 The Woman that's equalled by none.
... love , Our homage , our truth , is thy right , Since by day that sweet wreath of enchantment is wove , Which we wear on thy bosom at night . 14 THE WOMAN THAT'S EQUALLED BY NONE . Then whilst 13 The Woman that's equalled by none.
Pàgina 30
... night . O bitter is my cup of life , The cup , alas ! of woe , And darkly o'er its venom - brim The poison - waters flow . The sweetest rose in Araby Is wither'd ere ' twas blown , And the blighted heart it grew upon Can never flower ...
... night . O bitter is my cup of life , The cup , alas ! of woe , And darkly o'er its venom - brim The poison - waters flow . The sweetest rose in Araby Is wither'd ere ' twas blown , And the blighted heart it grew upon Can never flower ...
Pàgina 37
... night - wind to lovers is true , The lone beauty's plaint it has borne , On his Arab the cavalier flew , And ceas'd has his dove - mate to mourn . He sooth'd the fair maid on his breast , " Behold thy true Leman , " he cried , " Thy ...
... night - wind to lovers is true , The lone beauty's plaint it has borne , On his Arab the cavalier flew , And ceas'd has his dove - mate to mourn . He sooth'd the fair maid on his breast , " Behold thy true Leman , " he cried , " Thy ...
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
Frases i termes més freqüents
Adieu beauty beauty's bliss bloom blush body-snatchers bosom bower breast breathe bridal bride bridegroom bright brow Cachucha celibacy charms cheek Cupid daughter dear dearest death DEVIL'S DYKE e'er erst eyes fair feel flowers fond gentle girl give grief hath heart heaven honour hour husband Hymen Isle of Wight kiss ladies lake Moeris light lone Lord Chamberlain lov'd lovers mandolines Manners and Customs marriage married matrimony Misogyny Morlach ne'er never night o'er old bachelors old maids once Parga pleasure Poetic Negligée pr'ythee Queen rose rosy Tuscan grape round shrine sigh sigh'd sing sleep smile soft song soul spell stranger-one sunny sweet tear tell tender thee There's thine thou hast thou'rt thought true truth twas Twere vex'd virginity vows warm web of fears weep whilst Whitebait wings woman women woodcock-like young Zungeed tree
Passatges populars
Pàgina 25 - Who hath not proved how feebly words essay To fix one spark of Beauty's heavenly ray? Who doth not feel, until his failing sight Faints into dimness with its own delight, His changing cheek, his sinking heart confess The might, the majesty of Loveliness...
Pàgina 21 - Amour ! Amour ! quand tu nous tiens, On peut bien dire : Adieu prudence ! FABLE II.
Pàgina 68 - Excellent wretch ! Perdition catch my soul, But I do love thee ! and when I love thee not Chaos is come again.
Pàgina 121 - I have railed so long against marriage: But doth not the appetite alter? A man loves the meat in his youth, that he cannot endure in his age: Shall quips, and sentences, and these paper bullets of the brain, awe a man from the career of his humour? No: The world must be peopled. When I said, I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married.— Here comes Beatrice : By this day, she's a fair lady : I do spy some marks of love in her.
Pàgina 49 - We, Hermia, like two artificial gods Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song, both in one key, As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds Had been incorporate. So we grew together Like to a double cherry, seeming parted But yet an union in partition...
Pàgina xiii - But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd Than that which, withering on the virgin thorn, Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness.
Pàgina 157 - According to another version of the same proverbial rhyme, we are told :— " The man's a fool who tries by force or skill To stem the current of a woman's will, For if she will, she will, you may depend on't, And if she won't, she won't, and there's an end...
Pàgina 220 - Peace between malicious women is compared to a horse who is made to walk over the ice not properly shod ; or to a vessel in a storm without a rudder ; or to a lame man who should attempt to follow the mountain goats with a young foal or yearling mule.
Pàgina 212 - Plutarch, no man found fault with what was said to Dercyllidas, a great captain, and one that had commanded armies, who coming into the place of assembly, a young man, instead of rising and making room, told him, "Sir, you must not expect that honour from me being young, which cannot be returned to me by a child of yours when I am old.
Pàgina 65 - ... I came to tell thee something : what, I know not. I only know one word that should have been ; And that Oh ! if thy skin were seam'd with wrinkles, If on thy cheek sate sallow hollowness, If thy warm voice spake shrieking, harsh, and shrill ; But to that breathing form, those ripe round lips, Like a full parted cherry, those dark eyes, Rich in such dewy languors...