124 BLUNTNESS. BLUSH. BLUNTNESS. THIS is some fellow, Who, having been praised for bluntness, doth affect Shakspere. This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Shakspere. 'Tis not enough your counsel still be true; Blunt truths more mischief than nice falsehoods do. Pope. BLUSH. The doubtfull mayd, seeing herselfe descryde, Doth by her blushing tell that she did lye All night in old Tithonus' frozen bed, Whereof she seems ashamed inwardly. I have marked A thousand blushing apparitions Spenser. To start into her face; a thousand innocent shames In angel whiteness bear away these blushes. Shakspere. BLUSH. Pale and bloodless, 125 Being all descended to the labouring heart, To blush, and beautify the cheek again. Shakspere. To-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, See my Palmyra comes, the frighted blood Shakspere. Scarce yet recalled to her pale cheeks; And dawning into blushes. Dryden. A crimson blush her beauteous face o'erspread, Dryden, from Virgil. In rising blushes still fresh beauties rose, Turns in eclipses to a ruddy light. Addison, from Ovid. Let me for ever gaze, And bless the new-born glories that adorn thee: But here the roses blush so rare, Rowe. Crashaw. Confusion thrill'd me then, and secret joy, Brooke. Confound me not with shame, nor call up all Trap. Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame.-Pope. The modest matron, and the blushing maid. Goldsmith. Truly his penetrating eye The rose, with faint and feeble streak, Playful blushes, that seemed nought Scott. Scott. Moore. Look, look! the summer rises in her cheeks; Droops her twin stars to earthward. Procter. Alas! that in our earliest blush Sit watchers in their turn, Where heaven's too faint and transient glow So soon forgets to burn! O. W. Holmes. The lilies faintly to the roses yield, As on thy lovely cheek they struggling vie, (Who would not strive upon so sweet a field To win the mastery?) And thoughts are in thy speaking eyes reveal'd, On beauty's lids the gem-like tear 'Tis chased by beaming smiles away: Just so the blush is formed and fliesNor owns reflection's calm control: It comes, it deepens-fades and dies, 127 Hoffman. A gush of feeling from the soul. -Mrs. Dinnies. I know a cheek whose blushes, As they trembling come and go, 'Twas then the blush suffused her cheek, Lucretia M. Davidson. BOASTING. SEND danger from the east unto the west, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, Shakspere. What cracker is this same, that deafs our ears Shakspere. Here's a large mouth, indeed, That spits forth death, and mountains, rocks, and seas; Talks as familiarly of roaring lions, As maids of thirteen do of puppy dogs. --Shakspere For then we wound our modesty, and make Shakspere. My arm a nobler victory never gained, And I myself appeared the leading God. Lee. O Jove! let it become To boast my deeds, when he whom they concern Shall thus forget them. He that vaunts Of a received favour ought to be Jonson. Cartwright. Yet, if thou sin in wine or wantonness, Herbert. |