I give thee all—I can no more.
Though poor the offering be;
My heart and lute are all the store
That I can bring to thee.
My Heart and Lute. T. MOORE.
I've lived and loved.
Wallenstein, Pt. I. Act ii. Sc. 6. S.T. COLERIDGE.
LOVE'S PAINS.
A mighty pain to love it is,
And 't is a pain that pain to miss;
But of all pains, the greatest pain
It is to love, but love in vain.
Gold. A. COWLEY.
The sweetest joy, the wildest woe is love;
The taint of earth, the odor of the skies
Is in it.
Festus, Sc. Alcove, and Garden. P.J. BAILEY.
Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure
Thrill the deepest notes of woe.
On Sensibility. R. BURNS.
Love is like a landscape which doth stand
Smooth at a distance, rough at hand.
On Love. R. HEGGE.
Vows with so much passion, swears with so much grace,
That 't is a kind of heaven to be deluded by him.
Alexander the Great, Act i. Sc. 3. N. LEE.
To love you was pleasant enough,
And O, 't is delicious to hate you!
To —— T. MOORE.