Shall I, wasting in despair,Die because a woman’s fair?Or make pale my cheeks with care,’Cause another’s rosy are?Be she fairer than the day,Or the flowery meads in May,If she be not so to me,What care I how fair she be?
A Spring o'erhung with many a flow'r,The grey sand dancing in its bed,Embank'd beneath a Hawthorn bower,Sent forth its waters near my head:A rosy Lass approach'd my view;I caught her blue eye's modest beam:The stranger nodded 'How d'ye do!'And leap'd across the infant stream.robert bloomfield
Fan the sinking flame of hilarity with the wing of friendship; and pass the rosy wine.charles dickens
In the highlands, in the country places, Where the old plain men have rosy faces, And the young fair maidens Quiet eyes.Robert Louis Stevenson
A cypress-bough, and a rose-wreath sweet,A wedding-robe, and a winding-sheet,A bridal bed and a bier.Thine be the kisses, maid,And smiling Love’s alarms;And thou, pale youth, be laidIn the grave’s cold arms.Each in his own charms,Death and Hymen both are here;So up with scythe and torch,And to the old church porch,While all the bells ring clear:And rosy, rosy the bed shall bloom,And earthy, earthy heap up the tomb.thomas lovell beddoes
He that loves a rosy cheek,Or a coral lip admires,Or from star-like eyes doth seekFuel to maintain his fires,—As old Time makes these decay,So his flames must waste away.thomas carew
Now the "rosy morn appearing" Floods with light the dazzled heaven; And the schoolboy groans on hearing That eternal clock strike seven:- Now the waggoner is driving Towards the fields his clattering wain; Now the bluebottle, reviving, Buzzes down his native pane.charles stuart calverley
If two men who were friends in their youth meet again when they are old, after being separated for a life-time, the chief feeling they will have at the sight of each other will be one of complete disappointment at life as a whole; because their thoughts will be carried back to that earlier time when life seemed so fair as it lay spread out before them in the rosy light of dawn, promised so much and then performed so little.Arthur Schopenhauer
Soon as Aurora drives away the night, And edges eastern clouds with rosy light, The healthy huntsman, with the cheerful horn, Summons the dogs, and greets the dappled morn.john gay
Sparkling and bright, in liquid light does the wine our goblets gleam in. With hue as red as the rosy bed which a bee would choose to dream in.Charles Fenno Hoffman
It is a suggestive idea to track those worn feet backward through all the paths they have trodden ever since they were the tender and rosy little feet of a baby, and (cold as they now are) were kept warm in his mother's hand.Nathaniel Hawthorne
When rosy plumelets tuft the larch, And rarely pipes the mounted thrush.
...a vision of daring and dainty loveliness, of story of rosy masonry and delicate overhanging balconies and latticed windows, soaring with tier after tier of fanciful architecture in a pyramidal form, a very mountain of airy and audacious beauty , through the thousdnad pierced screens and gilded arches of which the Indian air blows cool over the flt roofs of the very highest house. Alladin’s magician could have called into existence no more marvelous abode.
But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn, With rosy lustre purpled o'er the lawn.
Now morn, her rosy steps in th' eastern clime Advancing, sow'd the earth with Orient pearl.john milton
Morn, Wak'd by the circling hours, with rosy hand Unbarr'd the gates of light.john milton
It was the cooling hour, just when the rounded Red sun sinks down behind the azure hill, Which then seems as if the whole earth is bounded, Circling all nature, hush'd, and dim, and still, With the far mountain-crescent half surrounded On one side, and the deep sea calm and chill Upon the other, and the rosy sky With one star sparkling through it like an eye.lord byron
Or else flushed Ganymede, his rosy thigh Half buried in the Eagle's down, Sole as a flying star, shot thro' the sky, Above the pillared town.
When health, affrighted, spreads her rosy wing, And flies with every changing gale of spring.lord byron
(...) From the grove comes The whole company, carrying all variously, caskets, Kerchiefs knotted at corners, or small wicker baskets Full of mushrooms; young ladies displayed in one hand The imposing boletus , a well-folded fan, In the other hand, tied like a field-flower posy, Carried tree-and-mulch mushrooms, brown, ochre, and rosy.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me prov'd, I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.
In Paris a queer little man you may see, A little man all in gray; rosy and round as an apple is he, Content with the present whate'er it may be, While from care and from cash he is equally free, And merry both night and day! "Ma foi! I laugh at the world." says he, "I laugh at the world, and the world laughs at me!" What a gay little man in gray.pierre-jean de béranger