Sighed and looked unutterable things.
The Seasons: Summer. J. THOMSON.
My soul has rest, sweet sigh! alone in thee.
To Laura in Death. PETRARCH.
Yet sighes, deare sighes, indeede true friends you are
That do not leave your left friend at the wurst,
But, as you with my breast I oft have nurst,
So, gratefull now, you waite upon my care.
Sighes. SIR PH. SIDNEY.
Sighs
Which perfect Joy, perplexed for utterance,
Stole from her sister Sorrow.
The Gardener's Daughter. A. TENNYSON.
SILENCE.
Three Silences there are: the first of speech,
The second of desire, the third of thought.
The Three Silences of Molinos. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
Stillborn silence! thou that art
Flood-gate of the deeper heart!
Silence. R. FLECKNOE
And silence, like a poultice, comes
To heal the blows of sound.
The Music Grinder. O.W. HOLMES.
Silence in love betrays more woe
Than words, though ne'er so witty;
A beggar that is dumb, you know,
May challenge double pity.
The Silent Lover. SIR W. RALEIGH.
Shallow brooks murmur moste,
deepe silent slide away.
The Arcadia, Thirsis and Dorus. SIR PH. SIDNEY.