Pale, mournful flower, that hidest in shade Mid dewy damps and murky glade, With moss and mould, Why dost thou hang thy ghastly head, So sad and cold?
Beside the brook and on the umbered meadow, Where yellow fern-tufts fleck the faded ground, With folded lids beneath their palmy shadow The gentian nods in dewy slumbers bound.sarah helen whitman
Fast fading violets covered up in leaves; And mid-May's eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.john keats
An English homegrey twilight poured On dewy pasture, dewy trees, Softer than sleepall things in order stored, A haunt of ancient Peace.Tennyson
When the face of night is fair on the dewy downs, And the shining daffodil dies.Tennyson
How beautiful is night!A dewy freshness fills the silent air;No mist obscures; nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain,Breaks the serene of heaven:In full-orbed glory, yonder moon divineRolls through the dark blue depths;Beneath her steady rayThe desert circle spreadsLike the round ocean, girdled with the sky.How beautiful is night!Robert Southey
And mid-May’s eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.john keats
The City is of Night; perchance of Death, But certainly of Night; for never there Can come the lucid morning's fragrant breath After the dewy dawning's cold grey air.james thomson
See yonder fire! It is the moon slow rising o'er the eastern hill. It glimmers on the forest tips, and through the dewy foliage drips In little rivulets of light, and makes the heart in love with night.Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The lark now leaves his watery nest, And climbing, shakes his dewy wings. He takes your window for the East And to implore your light he sings.
Go, little letter, apace, apace, Fly; Fly to the light in the valley below Tell my wish to her dewy blue eye.
When the face of night is fair in the dewy downs And the shining daffodil dies.
The full-blown rose, mid dewy sweets Most perfect dies.
The rose saith in the dewy morn, I am most fair; Yet all my loveliness is born Upon a thorn.
And mid-May's eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eyes.
Happy insect! what can be In happiness compared to thee? Fed with nourishment divine, The dewy morning's gentle wine! Nature waits upon thee still, And thy verdant cup does fill; 'Tis fill'd wherever thou dost tread, Nature's self's thy Ganymede.Abraham Cowley
The morn is up again, the dewy morn, With breath all incense, and with cheek all bloom, Laughing the clouds away with playful scorn, And living as if earth contained no tomb, And glowing into day.lord byron
From morn To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, A summer's day; and with the setting sun Dropt from the zenith like a falling star.john milton
Pride of the dewy morning, The swain's experienced eye From thee takes timely warning, Nor trusts the gorgeous sky.john keble
William dewy, Tranter Reuben, Farmer Ledlow late at plough, Robert's kin, and John's, and Ned's, And the Squire, and Lady Susan, lie in Mellstock churchyard now!thomas hardy
We bring roses, beautiful fresh roses, dewy as the morning and coloured like the dawn; Little tents of odour, where the bee reposes, Swooning in sweetness of the bed he dreams upon.thomas buchanan read