This said unanimous, and other Rites Observing none, but adoration pure Which God likes best, into thir inmost
bower Handed they went; and eas'd the putting off These troublesom disguises which wee wear, Strait side by side were laid, nor turnd I weene ADAM from his fair Spouse, nor EVE the Rites Mysterious of connubial Love refus'd: Whatever Hypocrites austerely talk Of puritie and place and innocence, Defaming as impure what God declares Pure, and commands to som, leaves free to all.
Hair of cloud o'er face of flower, Nodding plumes where she alights, In the white hibiscus
bower She lingers through the soft spring nights -- Nights too short, though wearing late Till the mimosa days are born.
I may also enjoy the precious privilege of assuring you of my fond, faithful, and unalterable affection, whenever you visit your favorite
bower, unless, indeed, it offends your pride to listen to professions of love from the lips of a poor workingman, clad in a blouse and cap.
When completed, it was a sweet rural
bower, roofed overhead with an arch of living boughs.
I was elated with having handled heavy anchors, cables, boats without the slightest hitch; pleased with having laid out scientifically
bower, stream, and kedge exactly where I believed they would do most good.
Of course, the upper room over the shop was to be the best sitting-room; but also the parlour behind the shop was to be made a suitable
bower for the lovely Penny, who would naturally wish to be near her husband, though Mr.
What will he say when, instead of a pair of plump turtle doves, billing and cooing in a
bower of roses, he finds a single lean cormorant, standing mateless and shelterless on poverty's bleak cliff?
The suitor repairs not to the
bower of his mistress, but to her father's lodge, and throws down a present at his feet.
The marquise and her two daughters were at the top of the staircase, where the sallow old nymph in the angle peeped out from a
bower of plants.
This however did not prevent my gratification from being great as I became aware on reaching the end of the garden that Miss Tita was seated in my little
bower.
From this almost impenetrable
bower above the village he crouched, looking down upon the scene below him, wondering over every feature of this new, strange life.
There, in a secluded
bower, the two lovers whispered their hopes and plans, unmindful of the royal charge playing neglected among the flowers and shrubbery of the garden.
