Agamemnon.

That fawn-skin-dappled hair of hers;
And the blue eye
Dear and dewy,
And that infantine fresh air of hers!
* * * * *
Eyes and mouth too,
All the face composed of flowers....
* * * * *
...  The sweet face ... 
Be its beauty
Its sole duty!

A Pretty Woman.

Women hate a debt as
Men a gift.

      In a Balcony.

A pretty woman’s worth some pains to see,
Nor is she spoiled, I take it, if a crown
Complete the forehead pale and tresses pure.

Colombe’s Birthday.

Sure, ’tis no woman’s part to long for battle;
* * * * *
Who conquers mildly
God from afar benignantly regardeth.

Agamemnon.

Man’s best and woman’s worse
Amount so nearly to the same thing.

Daniel Bartoli.

          Nature’s law ... 
    Given the peerless woman, certainly
    Somewhere shall be the peerless man to match.

      The Inn Album.

    Show me where’s the woman won without
    The help of one lie which she believes—­
    That—­never mind how things have come to pass,
    And let who loves have loved a thousand times—­
    All the same he now loves her only, loves
    Her ever....

The Inn Album.

Girl with sparkling eyes....
* * * * *
What an angelic mystery you are—­
* * * * *
You have a full fresh joyous sense of life
That finds you out life’s fit food everywhere;
* * * * *
By joyance you inspire joy.

The Inn Album.

      Now makes twice

That I have seen her, walked and talked
With the poor pretty thoughtful thing,
Whose worth I weigh; she tries to sing: 
Draws, hopes in time the eye grows nice;
Reads verse and thinks she understands;
Loves all, at any rate, that’s great,
Good, beautiful....

      Dis Aliter Visum.

    Wave my lady dear a last farewell,
    Lamenting who to one and all of us
    Domestics was a mother, myriad harms
    She used to ward away from every one,
    And mollify her husband’s ireful mood.

      Balaustion’s Adventure.

          Men? say you have the power
    To make them yours, rule men, throughout life’s little hour,
    According to the phrase:  what follows? 
          Men, you make,
    By ruling them, your own; each man for his own sake
    Accepts you as his guide, avails him of what worth
    He apprehends in you to sublimate his earth
    With fire; content, if so you convey him through night,
    That you shall play the sun, and he, the satellite,
    Pilfer your light and heat and virtue, starry pelf,
    While, caught up by your course, he turns upon himself.