The face the index of a feeling mind.

The face the index of a feeling mind.

A face that had a story to tell. How different faces are in this
particular! Some of them speak read more

A face that had a story to tell. How different faces are in this
particular! Some of them speak not. They are books in which not
a line is written, save perhaps a date.

Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to trace
The day's disasters in his morning face.

Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to trace
The day's disasters in his morning face.

In her face excuse
Came prologue, and apology too prompt.

In her face excuse
Came prologue, and apology too prompt.

And her face so fair
Stirr'd with her dream, as rose-leaves with the air.

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 among so many millions of
faces there should be none read more

It is the common wonder of all men, how among so many millions of
faces there should be none alike.

Her face betokened all things dear and good,
The light of somewhat yet to come was there
read more

Her face betokened all things dear and good,
The light of somewhat yet to come was there
Asleep, and waiting for the opening day,
When childish thoughts, like flowers would drift away.

Cheek . . .
Flushing white and mellow'd red;
Gradual tints, as when there glows
read more

Cheek . . .
Flushing white and mellow'd red;
Gradual tints, as when there glows
In snowy milk the bashful rose.

There is a garden in her face,
Where roses and white lilies blow;
A heavenly paradise is read more

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.