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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.
Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships,
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
Sweet read more
Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships,
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.--
Her lips suck forth my soul; see, where it flies!--
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.
I am who I am and I say what I think. I'm not putting a face on for the record.
I am who I am and I say what I think. I'm not putting a face on for the record.
A face to lose youth for, to occupy age
With the dream of, meet death with.
A face to lose youth for, to occupy age
With the dream of, meet death with.
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.
The light upon her face
Shines from the windows of another world.
Saints only have such faces.
The light upon her face
Shines from the windows of another world.
Saints only have such faces.
