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
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.john gardiner calkins brainard
The frost stings sweetly with a burning kissAs intimate as love, as cold as death.roy campbell
Once in pre-war days, when curiously-bonneted women drivers were familiar sights at the taxi-wheels, I cried out to one in my dismay: "Is there no speed limit in this mad city?""Oh, yes, monsieur," she answered sweetly over her shoulder, "but no one has ever succeeded in reaching it."alexander woollcott
When my mouth shall be filled with dust, and the worm shall feed, and feed sweetly upon me, when the ambitious man shall have no satisfaction if the poorest alive tread upon him, nor the poorest receive any contentment in being made equal to princes, for they shall be equal but in dust.john donne
In the sweetly constituted mind of Sir Philip Sidney, it seems as if no ugly thought or unhandsome meditation could find a harbour. He turned all that he touched into images of honour and virtue.philip sidney
So sweetly she bade me adieu, I thought that she bade me return.william shenstone
In numbers warmly pure, and sweetly strong.
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.
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.
The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled cowslip, burnet and green clover.william shakespeare
On Leven's banks, while free to rove, And tune the rural pipe to love, I envied not the happiest swain That ever trod the Arcadian plain. Pure stream! in whose transparent wave My youthful limbs I wont to lave; No torrents stain thy limpid source, No rocks impede thy dimpling course, That sweetly warbles o'er its bed, With white, round, polish'd pebbles spread.tobias smollett
Rose-cheeked Laura, come, Sing thou smoothly with thy beauty's Silent music, either other sweetly gracing.thomas campion