A Book of old English love songs . O, lovely Rose!Tell her, that wastes her time andme,That now she knows,When I resemble her to thee,How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her thats youngAnd shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprungIn deserts, where no men abide,Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worthOf beauty from the light retired: Bid her come forth,Suffer herself to be desired,And not blush so to be admired. [116] ?? «5o, lotiel^ Hose Then die! that sheThe common fate of all things rare May read in thee:How small a part of time they shareThat are so wondrous swe
A Book of old English love songs . O, lovely Rose!Tell her, that wastes her time andme,That now she knows,When I resemble her to thee,How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her thats youngAnd shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprungIn deserts, where no men abide,Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worthOf beauty from the light retired: Bid her come forth,Suffer herself to be desired,And not blush so to be admired. [116] ?? «5o, lotiel^ Hose Then die! that sheThe common fate of all things rare May read in thee:How small a part of time they shareThat are so wondrous sweet and fair! — Edmund [»7] Co Calotte SINGING A SONG OF HIS OWN COMPOSITION
Size: 1708px × 1463px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookpublishernewyo, bookyear1897
