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saw shower'd from those fine eyes apace, Of which the sun ofttimes might envious be; Accents I heard sigh'd forth so movingly, As to stay floods, or mountains to displace. Love and good sense, firmness, with pity join'd And wailful grief, a sweeter concert made Than ever yet was pour'd on human ear: And heaven unto the music so inclined, That not a leaf was seen to stir the shade; Such melody had fraught the winds, the atmosphere. NOTT. SONNET CXXIV. _Quel sempre acerbo ed onorato giorno._ HE RECALLS HER AS HE SAW HER WHEN IN TEARS. That ever-painful, ever-honour'd day So left her living image on my heart Beyond or lover's wit or poet's art, That oft to it will doting memory stray. A gentle pity softening her bright mien, Her sorrow there so sweet and sad was heard, Doubt in the gazer's bosom almost stirr'd Goddess or mortal, which made heaven serene. Fine gold her hair, her face as sunlit snow, Her brows and lashes jet, twin stars her eyne, Whence the young archer oft took fatal aim; Each loving lip--whence, utterance sweet and low Her pent grief found--a rose which rare pearls line, Her tears of crystal and her sighs of flame. MACGREGOR. That ever-honour'd, yet too bitter day, Her image hath so graven in my breast, That only memory can return it dress'd In living charms, no genius could portray: Her air such graceful sadness did display, Her plaintive, soft laments my ear so bless'd, I ask'd if mortal, or a heavenly guest, Did thus the threatening clouds in smiles array. Her locks were gold, her cheeks were breathing snow, Her brows with ebon arch'd--bright stars her eyes, Wherein Love nestled, thence his dart to aim: Her teeth were pearls--the rose's softest glow Dwelt on that mouth, whence woke to speech grief's sighs Her tears were crystal--and her breath was flame. WOLLASTON. SONNET CXXV. _Ove ch' i' posi gli occhi lassi o giri._ HER IMAGE IS EVER IN HIS HEART. Where'er I rest or turn my weary eyes, To ease the longings which allure them still, Love pictures my bright lady at his will, That ever my desire may verdant rise. Deep pity she with graceful grief applies-- Warm feelings ever gentle bosoms fill-- While captived equally my fond ears thrill With her swee
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