Poems with rhymes of compare

Thy flowery Southland fair,
Thy sweet and crystal air, --
O land beyond compare,

Heed not tho' none should call thee fair;
So, Mary, let it be
If nought in loveliness compare

Unto the saints' sweet incense, or their prayer,
These smoky curdled clouds I do compare.

May this auspicious night with that compare,
Nor less the joys, nor less the rising heir,

Yet when was ever beauty held more rare
Than simple heart and maiden modesty?
What fostered charms with virtue could compare?

O heart-felt raptures! bliss beyond compare!
I've paced much this weary, mortal round,
And sage experience bids me this declare--

Rose by the thorn and lily fair,
Both one and all I do compare

The leg-bar chafed the ankle and we gasped for cooler air,
But no galley on the waters with our galley could compare!

like a breath of fresh air.
Intoxicating, overwhelming,
a feeling without compare.

Scarcely she knew that she was great or fair
Or wise beyond what other women are,
Or, which is better, knew, but never durst compare.

For you were a mighty poet, few could with you compare,
And also an honour to Scotland, for your genius it is rare.

But why compare?
I'm "Wife"! Stop there!

Know he that when with this I do compare
The love I do a living woman bear,

Much like untruth to this the story doth declare,
Where the Elders laid to Susan's charge meet matter to compare.

A worthy priest for fasting and prayer
And mortification most deserving;
And as for preaching beyond compare,

Say, could you with my virgin fame compare?
The brightest bud that scents the vernal gale
Was not so fragrant; and was not so fair.

Would you with ivy wreath your flowing hair,
Not Bacchus' self with Phaon could compare:

With thy exuberant flesh so fair,
That only Pheidias might compare,

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

Making a couplement of proud compare
With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems,
With April's first-born flowers, and all things rare