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SHAKESPEARE.

Gold.

A. COWLEY.

BURYS.

Love's Pains.

Sunshine and rain at once.

King Lear, Adiv. Sc. 3. A mighty pain to love it is,

Smiles from reason flow, And 't is a pain that pain to miss ;

To brute denied, and are of love the food. But of all pains, the greatest pain

Paradise Lost, Book ix.

MILTON. It is to love, but love in vain.

The rose is fairest when 't is budding new

And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears The sweetest joy, the wildest woe is love; The rose is sweetest washed with morning dew, The taint of earth, the odor of the skies

And love is loveliest when embalmel in tears. Is in it.

Lady of the Lake, Cant. iv.

SCOTT. Festus.

P. J. BAILEY.
Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure

SHYNESS OF LOVE.
Thrill the deepest notes of woe.
On Sensibility.

Silence in love bewrays more woe

Than words, though ne 'er so witty; Fantastic tyrant of the amorous heart,

A beggar that is dunıb, you know, How hard thy yoke! how cruel is thy dart ! May challenge double pity. Those 'scape thy anger who refuse thy sway,

SIR W RALEIGH, And those are punished most who most obey.

M. PRIOR.

Read it, sweet maid, though it be done but slightly;

Who can show all his love doth love but lightly. To be in love where scorn is bought with groans, Coy looks, with heart-sore sighs ; one fading I never tempted her with word too large; moment's mirth,

But, as a brother to his sister, showed With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights :

Bashful sincerity, and comely love.
If haply won, perhaps a hapless gain ;

Much Ado about Nothing, Act iv. Sc. I.
If lost, why then a grievous labor won.
Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act i. Sc. I.

ARTS OF LOVE.
Love is like a landscape which doth stand

Of all the paths lead to a woman's love Smooth at a distance, rough at hand.

Pity's the straightest.

Knight of Malta, Acti, Sc. I. BEAUMONT and FLFTCHER. Vows with so much passion, swears with so much So mourned the dame of Ephesus her love; grace,

And thus the soldier, armed with resolution, That 't is a kind of heaven to be deluded by him. Told his soft tale, and was a thriving wooer. 1 lexander the Great, Act i. Sc. 3. N. LEE. Richard III. / Altered), Act ii. Sc. I.

COLLEY CIBDER.

The Silent Lover.

Solomon.

Sonnet.

S. DANIEL

SHAKESPEARE.

SHAKESPEARE.

On Love.

RHEGGE.

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IDLE LOVE,
My only books

Were woman's looks,
And folly's all they've taught me.
The time I've lost.

Sighell and looked unutterable things.

7 ne Seasons; Summer,

THOMSON.

1.MRU

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MRS. TIGHE.

To

WORDSWORTH.

SHAKESPEARE

BYRON,

sea alike

BYRON,

Sweet to entrance

Dear as the vital warmth that feeds my life; The raptured soul by intermingling glance.

Dear as these eyes, that weep in fondness o'er

thee. Psyche.

Venice Preserved, Act v. Sc. 1.

T. OTWAY. True beauty dwells in deep retreats,

Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes; Whose veil is unremoved

Dear as the ruildy drops that warm my heart. Till heart with heart in concord beats,

The Bard, i. 3.

T. GRAY. And the lover is beloved.

As dear to me as are the ruddy drops

That visit my sad heart.
O that the desert were my dwelling-place,

Julius Cæsar, Act. ii. Sc. I.
With one fair Spirit for my minister,
That I might all forget the human race,

With thee conversing I forget all time ;
Anil, bating no one, love but only her!

All seasons and their change, all please alike.
Childe Harold, Cant, iv.
With thee, all toils are sweet; each clime hath But neither breath of morn when she ascends
charms;

With charm of earliest birds, nor rising sun
Earth

our world within our arms. On this delightful land, nor herb, fruit, flower, The Bride of Abydos.

Glistering with dew, nor fragrance after showers,
Nor grateful evening mild, nor silent night
With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon,

Or glittering starlight, without thee is sweet.
TRUE LOVE.

Paradise Lost, Bookiv.
Love is a celestial harmony
Of likely hearts.
Hymn in Honor of Beauty.

CONSTANCY.
The Gods approve

All love is sweet,
The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul;
A fervent, not ungovernable, love.

Given or returned. Common as light is love,
Thy transports moderate.

And its familiar voice wearies not ever.

Prometheus Unbound, Act. ii. Sc. 5. Laodamia.

WORDS WORTH.

Love is indestructible: In his deportment, shape, and mien appeared

Its holy flame forever burneth ;
Elysian beauty, melancholy grace,

From Heaven it came, to Heaven returneth ;
Brought from a pensive, though a happy place.
He spake of love, such love as Spirits feel

It soweth here with toil and care,
In worlds whose course is equable and pure ;
No fears to beat away,

But the harvest-time of Love is there.
- no strife to heal,

Curse of Kehama, Cant. x. The past unsighed for, and the future sure.

WORDSWORTH. They sin who tell us Love can die :

With Life all other passions fly, There's beggary in the love that can be reckoned.

All others are but vanity. Antony and Cleopatra, Act. 1, Sc. I.

Curse of Kehama, Cant. x.

MILTOY

SPENSER.

SHELLEY

R. SOUTHEY

Laodamia.

SHAKESPEARE.

R. SOUTHEY.

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MARRIAGE.

SHAKESPEARE.

SONNET.

Love's life is in its own replies, –

To each low beat it beats, Let me not to the marriage of true minds Smiles back the smiles, sighs back the sighs, Admit impediments : love is not love,

And every throb repeats. Which alters when it alteration finds,

Then, since one loving heart still throws Or bends with the remover to remove;

Two shadows in love's sun, (), no! it is an ever-fixed mark,

How should two loving hearts compose That looks on tempests, and is never shaken ; And mingle into one ?

THOMAS KIBBLE HERVEY. It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth 's unknown, although his height be

taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and THOU HAST SWORN BY THY GOD, MY cheeks

JEANIE.
Within his bending sickle's compass come ;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, Thou hast sworn by thy God, my Jeanie,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

By that pretty white hand o' thine,
If this be error, and upon me proved,

And by a' the lowing stars in heaven,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

That thou wad aye be mine!
And I hae sworn by my God, my Jeanie,

And by that kind heart o' thine,
By a' the stars sown thick owre heaven,

That thou shalt aye be mine!
LOVE.

Then foul fa' the hands that was loose sic bands There are who say the lover's heart

And the heart that wad part sic luve! Is in the loved one's merged ;

But there 's nae hand can loose the band, O, never by love's own warm art

But the finger o' God abuve. So cold a plea was urged !

Though the wee, wee cot maun be my lield, No! -- hearts that love hath crowned or crossed An' my claithing ne'er sae mean, Love fondly knits together ;

I wad lap me up rich i' the faulds o' luve, But not a thought or hue is lost

Heaven's armfu'o' my Jean! That made a part of either.

Her white arm wad be a pillow to me,

Fu' safter than the down;

An' Luve wad winnow owre us his kind, kind It is an ill-told tale that tells

wings, Of “hearts by love made one;”

An' sweetly I'd sleep, an' soun'. !le grows who near another's dwells

Come here to me, thou lass o' my luve! More conscious of his own ;

Come here and kneel wi' me! in each spring up new thoughts and powers

The morn is fu’o' the presence o' God, That, mid love's warm, clear weather,

An' I canna pray without thee. fogether tend like climbing flowers,

The morn-wind is sweet 'mang the beds o' new And, turning, grow together.

flowers,

The wee birds sing kindlie an' hie ; Such fictions blink love's better part,

Our gudeman leans oure his kail-yard dike, Yield up its half of bliss ;

And a blythe auld bodie is he. The wells are in the neighbor heart

The Book mann be ta’en whan the carle comes When there is thirst in this:

hame, There findeth love the passion-flowers

Wi’ the holie psalmodie; On which it learns to thrive,

And thou main speak o' me to thy God, Makes honey in another's bowers,

And I will speak o' thee. But brings it home to hive.

ALLAN CUNNINGHAM

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