Cricket is an ancient pastime; it ripened sweetly, it has endured nobly.
Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back; Guilty of dust and sin. But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack From my first entrance in, Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning If I lacked any thing.George Herbert
When as in silks my Julia goes, Then, then (me thinks) how sweetly flows That liquefaction of her clothes.Robert Herrick
Yiddish is a household tongue, and God, like other members of the family, is sweetly informal in it.
So sweetly she bade me adieu,I thought that she bade me return.william shenstone
Sleep sweetly in your humble graves,Sleep, martyrs of a fallen cause;Though yet no marble column cravesThe pilgrim here to pause.Stoop, angels, hither from the skies!There is no holier spot of groundThan where defeated valor lies,By mourning beauty crowned!henry timrod
Never had he felt the joy of the word more sweetly, never had he known so clearly that Eros dwells in language.thomas mann
Yet could I these two days have spent, While still the autumn sweetly shone, Ah, me! I might have died content When I had looked on Carcassonne.gustave nadaud
I saw two clouds at morning, Tinged with the rising sun, And in the dawn they floated on, And mingled into one. I thought that morning cloud was blest, It moved so sweetly to the West.
How sweetly sounds the voice of a good woman! It is so seldom heard that, when it speaks, It ravishes all senses.Philip Massinger
Quick as a humming bird is my love, Dipping into the hearts of flowers She darts so eagerly, swiftly, sweetly Dipping into the flowers of my heart.
What's this that myrrh doth still smell in thy kiss, And that with thee no other odour is? 'Tis doubt, my Postumus, he that doth smell So sweetly always, smells not very well.
Pity speaks to grief more sweetly than a band of instruments.
Oh, my Luve is like a red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June. O, my Luve is like the melodie, That's sweetly played in tune.Robert Burns
Yet, all beneath the unrivall'd rose, The lowly daisy sweetly blows; Tho' large the forest's monarch throws His army shade, Yet green the juicy hawthorn grows, Adown the glade.Robert Burns
Rose-cheeked Laura, come, Sing thou smoothly with thy beauty's Silent music, either other sweetly gracing.thomas campion
sweetly they slept On the blue fields of heaven, and then there crept A little noiseless noise among the leaves, Born of the very sign that silence heaves.john keats