The magic of a face.
He had a face like a benediction (blessing).
The face the index of a feeling mind.
Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to trace
The day's disasters in his morning face.
Her face betokened all things dear and good,
The light of somewhat yet to come was there
Asleep, and waiting for the opening day,
When childish thoughts, like flowers, would drift
away.
How some they have died, and some they have
left me,
And some are taken from me; all are departed;
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
A face that had a story to tell. How different
faces are in this particular! Some of them speak
not. They are books in which not a line is
written, save perhaps a date.
These faces in the mirrors
Are but the shadows and phantoms of myself.
The light upon her face
Shines from the windows of another world.
Saints only have such faces.
Oh! could you view the melody
Of every grace,
And music of her face,
You'd drop a tear,
Seeing more harmony
In her bright eye,
Than now you hear.
Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships,
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.—
Her lips suck forth my soul; see, where it flies!—
Human face divine.
In her face excuse
Came prologue, and apology too prompt.
Vous avez bien la face descouverte; moi je suis tout face.
You have your face bare; I am all face.
whether he was not cold. Same in Fuller—
Worthies. Berkshire. P. 82. 3rd Ed. (1662)
Cheek * * *
Flushing white and mellow'd red;
Gradual tints, as when there glows
In snowy milk the bashful rose.
With faces like dead lovers who died true.
Sæpe tacens vocem verbaque vultus habet.
Often a silent face has voice and words.
If to her share some female errors fall
Look on her face, and you'll forget 'em all.
Lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon us.
A sweet attractive kinde of grace,
A full assurance given by lookes,
Continuall comfort in a face
The lineaments of Gospell bookes.
On his bold visage middle age
Had slightly press'd its signet sage,
Yet had not quenched the open truth
And fiery vehemence of youth;
Forward and frolic glee was there,
The will to do, the soul to dare.
Sea of upturned faces.
All men's faces are true, whatsome'er their hands
are.
Thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face
Bears a command in 't: though thy tackle's torn,
Thou show'st a noble vessel.
A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.
God has given you one face, and you make
yourselves another.
In thy face
I see thy fury: if I longer stay
We shall begin our ancient bickerings.
