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With every morn his love grew tenderer,
With every eve deeper and tenderer still;
He might not in house, field, or garden stir,
But her full shape would all his seeing fill.

Keats

(Isabella).

It hath been truly said by some wise man
That money, grief, and love cannot be hidden.

Longfellow

February 17.

(The Spanish Student).

That neck not a swan could excel in its grace, While in whiteness it vied with your arms; Though now a grave 'kerchief you properly place To conceal that scrag-end of your charms.

Hood.

Oh! flatter me! for love delights in praises.

Shakespeare

(Two Gentlemen of Verona).

February 18.

What I do

And what I dream include thee, as the wine Must taste of its own grapes; and when I sue God for myself, He hears that name of thine, And sees within my eyes the tears of two.

E. B. Browning.

There is a love that is to last
When the hot days of youth are past.

W. S. Landor.

February 17.

February 18.

Oh, my soul's joy, and dost thou wish, as now, That evermore our love burn strong and clear? Ye gods! grant she be faithful to her vow,

And that 'tis uttered from a heart sincere.

Horace.

Love rules the court, the camp, the grove,
And men below and saints above,
For love is heaven and heaven is love.

February 20.

Without the help of art,

Sir Walter Scott.

Like flow'rs which grace the wild,
Her sweets she did impart

Whene'er she looked or smiled.

Allan Ramsay.

How delicate the married life-
You love your husband, I my wife.

February 21.

Whitehead.

Never was lady on earth more true as woman and wife,

Larger in judgment and instinct, prouder in

manners and life.

E. B. Browning.

And if I lose thy love I lose my all.

Pope.

February 20.

February 21.

When will you dine at home, my dove?
I say to Mr. Stubbs-

"When cook can make an omelette, love,

An omelette like the Clubs!"

Hood.

There's nothing in this world so sweet as love.

Longfellow

February 23.

(The Spanish Student).

There did we sit, beneath th' o'ershadowing tree,
Watching the waters as they roll'd along;
She sang-oh, joy! what smiles, what blushes throng
Upon those cheeks-and what delight for me!

F. Kazinezi, trans. B. Bowring.

No, Music, thou art not the God of Love!
Unless love feeds upon its own sweet self
Till it becomes all music dreams of.

February 24.

Yes, love is ever busy with his shuttle,
Is ever weaving into life's dull warp

Shelley.

Bright, gorgeous flowers and scenes Arcadian ;
Hanging our gloomy prison-house about
With tapestries, that make its walls dilate

In never-ending vistas of delight.

Longfellow

(The Spanish Student).

Eternal love let man, then, never swear.

Young.

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