The wind breath'd soft as lover's sigh,
And, oft renew'd, seem'd oft to die,
With breathless pause between,
O who, with speech of war and woes,
Would wish to break the soft repose
Of such enchanting scene!
--
Lord of the Isles (1815), Canto IV, Stanza 13.Walter Scott
The soft complaining flute,
In dying notes, discovers
The woes of hopeless lovers.John Dryden
I exist. It is soft, so soft, so slow. And light: it seems as though it suspends in the air. It moves.
Jean-Paul Sartre
The fittest for my Wound;
Who best the gentle Passions knows to move;
Ovid, the soft Philosopher of Love:
His Love Epistles for my Friends I chose;
For there I found the Kindred of my Woes.Ovid
The look of love alarms
Because 'tis filled with fire;
But the look of soft deceit
Shall win the lover's hire.William Blake
Where have my ravish'd senses been!
What joys, what wonders, have I seen!
The scene yet stands before my eye,
A thousand glorious deeds that lie
In deep futurity obscure,
Fights and triumphs immature,
Heroes immers'd in time's dark womb,
Ripening for mighty years to come,
Break forth, and, to the day display'd,
My soft inglorious hours upbraid.
Transported with so bright a scheme,
My waking life appears a dream.Joseph Addison
Scott, Walter
Scott, Winfield
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