...do pity you, from my soul. Л/ш Har. Then why won't you leave me ? Young Cla. ' She never told her love, ' But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud, ' Feed on her damask cheek." Take warning, miss, when you once begin to pine in thought, 'tis all over with you ; and be assured,...

...thing I ever faw. It is an image of Patience. Speaking of a maid in love, he fays, She never told her love ; But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud, Feed on her damaik cheek : flie pin'd in thought ; And, with a green and yellow melancholy, She fat like Patience...

...do pity you, from my soul. Miss Har. Then why won't you leave me ? Y'oung Cla. ' She never told her love, ' But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud, ' Feed on her dnmask cheek.' Take warning, miss, when you once begin to pine in thought, 'tis all over with you ;...

...any other ancient or modern : the following prosopopoeia from Shakespeare is thus beautiful. . She let Concealment like a worm i' th' bud Feed on her damask cheek. And the following line, translated from Juvenal by Dr. Johnson, is much superior to the original, owing...

...I ever saw; it is an image of Patience. Speaking of a maid in love, he says, — She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud. Feed on her damask cheek : she pin'd in thought, And sat like Patience on a. monument — t. . „ .;„ Smiling at grief. •*• ft^.'tv...

...this species of beauty, the following is, perhaps, a still more elegant example — She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud, Feed on her damask cheek. Twelfth Night. Shakespeare's images are not mere addresses to the fancy; they do not play about the...

...this unsubstantial pageant, faded, Leave not a wreck behind. CONCEALED LOVE. • SHE never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud, Feed on her damask cheek ; she pin'd in thought; And, with a green and yellow melancholy, She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief....

...saw , it is an image of Patience. Speaking of a maid in love, he says, " — — She never told her love, " But let concealment, like a worm i ' th' bud, " Feed on her damask cheek : she pin'd in thought, '• And sate like Patience on a monument, « Smiling at Gritf." What an image is here gi\-en...

...attend to its improbability, in the following beautiful lines of Shakefpear : " She never told her love ; But let Concealment, like a worm i' th* bud, Feed on her damafk cheek." — • But in thefe lines below the perfon of Reafon obtrudes itfelf into our company,...

...sinus in excess, seems to border on frenzy. Deefi melancholy described. She never told her love. Bat let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud. Feed on her damask chrok. She pin'd in thought. And witha green and yellow melancholy. She sat, like Patience on a monument...