Floral poesy, 749È£

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96 ÆäÀÌÁö - Flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid all arm'd : a certain aim he took At a fair vestal throned by the west, And loosed his love-shaft smartly from his bow, As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts : But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft Quench'd in the chaste beams of the watery moon, And the imperial votaress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
44 ÆäÀÌÁö - I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
54 ÆäÀÌÁö - The forward violet thus did I chide : Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells, If not from my love's breath ? The purple pride Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dyed.
95 ÆäÀÌÁö - Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath. That the rude sea grew civil at her song ; And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music.
224 ÆäÀÌÁö - To dream and dream, like yonder amber light, Which will not leave the myrrh-bush on the height; To hear each other's whisper'd speech; Eating the Lotos day by day, To watch the crisping ripples on the beach, And tender curving lines of creamy spray; To lend our hearts and spirits wholly To the influence of mild-minded melancholy...
72 ÆäÀÌÁö - O Proserpina, For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon ! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty ; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath ; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength...
17 ÆäÀÌÁö - mang the dewy weet, Wi' spreckled breast, When upward-springing, blithe, to greet The purpling East. Cauld blew the bitter-biting north Upon thy early, humble birth ; Yet cheerfully thou glinted forth Amid the storm, Scarce rear'd above the parent earth Thy tender form. The flaunting flowers our gardens yield, High sheltering woods and wa's maun shield ; But thou, beneath the random bield O' clod or stane, Adorns the histie stibble-field, Unseen, alane.
18 ÆäÀÌÁö - ... Unskilful he to note the card Of prudent lore, Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, And whelm him o'er. " Such fate to suffering worth is given, Who long with wants and woes has striven.
226 ÆäÀÌÁö - Thou waitest late and com'st alone, When woods are bare and birds are flown, And frosts and shortening days portend The aged year is near his end. Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye Look through its fringes to the sky, Blue — blue — as if that sky let fall A flower from its cerulean wall.
71 ÆäÀÌÁö - With fairest flowers Whilst summer lasts and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave: thou shalt not lack The flower that's like thy face, pale primrose...

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