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But hers, which through the crystal tears gave

light, Shone like the moon in water seen by night.

Venus and Adonis. L. 491.

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Her eyes are homes of silent prayer.

TENNYSON-In Memoriam. XXXII.

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The Father of Heaven.

Scoop, young Jesus, for her eyes,
Wood-browned pools of Paradise
Young Jesus, for the eyes,

For the eyes of Viola.
Angels.

Tint, Prince Jesus, a

Duskèd eye for Viola!
FRANCIS THOMPSON—The Making of Viola.

St. 2.
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But optics sharp it needs, I ween,
To see what is not to be seen.

JOHN TRUMBULL-McFingal. Canto I. L. 67.

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How blue were Ariadne's eyes

When, from the sea's horizon line,
At eve, she raised them on the skies!

My Psyche, bluer far are thine.
AUBREY DE VEREPsyche.

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So when thou saw'st in nature's cabinet
Stella thou straight'st look'st babies in her eyes.
SIR PHILIP SIDNEY---Astrophel and Stella.

(See also BEAUMONT)
But have ye not heard this,
How an one-eyed man is
Well sighted when
He is among blind men?
JOHN SKELTON—Why come ye not to Courte?
(writing against Wolsey).

(See also ERASMUS)

Blue eyes shimmer with angel glances.
Like spring violets over the lea.

CONSTANCE F. WOOLSON-October's Song.

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The harvest of a quiet eye,
That broods and sleeps on his own heart.

WORDSWORTH-A Poet's Epitaph. St. 13.

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F

20 FACE

And her face so fair

Stirr’d with her dream, as rose-leaves with the air. It is the common wonder of all men, how BYRON--Don Juan. Canto IV. St. 29. among so many millions of faces there should be none alike.

Yet even her tyranny had such a grace, SIR THOMAS BROWNE-Religio Medici. Pt. II. The women pardoned all, except her face. Sec. II.

BYRON-Don Juan. Canto V. St. 113.

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A face to lose youth for, to occupy age
With the dream of, meet death with.

ROBERT BROWNING-A Likeness.

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And to his eye
There was but one beloved face on earth,
And that was shining on him.

BYRONThe Dream. St. 2.
There is a garden in her face,

Where roses and white lilies blow;
A heavenly paradise is that place,

Wherein all pleasant fruits do grow.
There cherries grow that none may buy,
Till cherry ripe themselves do cry.
CAMPION claims these in note To Reader,

Fourth Book of Airs. ARBER in English
Garner, follows original. Attributed to

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As clear and as manifest as the nose in a
man's face.
BURTON—Anatomy of Melancholy. Pt. III.
Sec. III. Memb. 4. Subsec. I.

(See also RABELAIS)

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Your face, my thane, is a book where men
May read strange matters. To beguile the time,
Look like the time.

Macbeth. Act I. Sc. 5. L. 63.

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Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn.

Sonnet LXVIII.

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Never say "Fail" again.

BULWER-LYTTON-Richelieu. Act II. Sc. 2.

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He that is down needs fear no fall

He that is low, no pride.
BUNYAN-Pilgrim's Progress. Pt. II.

(See also BUTLER) Now a' is done that men can do, And a' is done in vain.

BURNS-It Was a' for our Rightfu' King.

20 He that is down can fall no lower. BUTLERHudibras. Pt. I. Canto III. L. 878.

(See also BUNYAN) 21 Camelus desiderans cornua etiam aures perdidit.

The camel set out to get him horns and was shorn of his ears. ERASMUS—Adagia. Chil. III. Cent. V. 8.

heading. Greek proverb from APOSTOLIUS. IX. 59 b. VIII. 43. English a free translation of the same from the rendering of the Proverb applied to Baalam by the Rabbis of the Talmud. Sanhedrin. 106 a.

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Her angel's face,
As the great eye of heaven, shyned bright,
And made a sunshine in the shady place.
SPENSERFaerie Queene. Bk. I. Canto III.

St. 4.
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Her cheeks so rare a white was on,
No daisy makes comparison;

(Who sees them is undone);
For streaks of red were mingled there,
Such as are on a Cath'rine pear,

(The side that's next the Sun). SIR JOHN SUCKLING—A Ballad Upon a Wed

ding. St. 10. Her face is like the Milky Way i' the sky,A meeting of gentle lights without a name.

SIR JOHN SUCKLINGBrennoralt. Act III.

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White rose in red rose-garden

Is not so white;
Snowdrops, that plead for pardon

And pine for fright
Because the hard East blows
Over their maiden vows,

Grow not as this face grows from pale to bright.

SWINBURNEBefore the Mirror.
A face with gladness overspread!
Soft smiles, by human kindness bred!

WORDSWORTHTo a Highland Girl.

14 My face. Is this long strip of skin

Which bears of worry many a trace,
Of sallow hue, of features thin,

This mass of seams and lines, my face?
EDMUND YATES- Agod Forty.

Greatly begin! Though thou have time
But for a line, be that sublime
Not failure, but low aim is crime.

LOWELL-For an Autograph.

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You may boldly say, you did not plough
Or trust the barren and ungrateful sands
With the fruitful grain of your religious counsels.
MASSINGERThe Renegado. Arenas arantes.

Plough the sands. Phrase used by MR.
ASQUITH, Nov. 21, 1894, at Birmingham.
BURTON-Anatomy of Melancholy. Pt. III.

Sec. 2. Mem. 1. Subs. 2. (See also FULLER, WYATT, also SANNAZARO

under WOMAN)

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