So sweet the blush of bashfulness,
E'en pity scarce can wish it less!

So sweet the blush of bashfulness,
E'en pity scarce can wish it less!

An Arab, by his earnest gaze,
Has clothed a lovely maid with blushes;
A smile within his read more

An Arab, by his earnest gaze,
Has clothed a lovely maid with blushes;
A smile within his eyelids plays
And into words his longing gushes.

Men blush less for their crimes than for their weaknesses and
vanity.
[Fr., Les hommes rougissent moins de read more

Men blush less for their crimes than for their weaknesses and
vanity.
[Fr., Les hommes rougissent moins de leur crimes que de leurs
faiblesses et de leur vanite.]

I pity bashful men, who feel the pain
Of fancied scorn and undeserved disdain,
And bear the read more

I pity bashful men, who feel the pain
Of fancied scorn and undeserved disdain,
And bear the marks upon a blushing face,
OF needless shame, and self-impos'd disgrace.

Where now I have no one to blush with me,
To cross their arms and hang their heads with read more

Where now I have no one to blush with me,
To cross their arms and hang their heads with mine,
To mask their brows and hide their infamy;
But I alone, alone must sit and pine,
Seasoning the earth with show'rs of silver brine,
Mingling my talk with tears, my grief with groans,
Poor wasting monuments of lasting moans.

Blushing is the colour of virtue.

Blushing is the colour of virtue.

While mantling on the maiden's cheek
Young roses kindled into thought.

While mantling on the maiden's cheek
Young roses kindled into thought.

We griev'd, we sigh'd, we wept; we never blushed before.

We griev'd, we sigh'd, we wept; we never blushed before.

Such a blush
In the midst of brown was born,
Like red poppies grown with corn.

Such a blush
In the midst of brown was born,
Like red poppies grown with corn.