Citations:enripen

develop from incipiency to maturity

 * 1772, Nathaniel Evans, Poems on Several Occasions, page 106:
 * How did we hope — alas! the hope how vain!
 * To hear thy future more enripen’d ſtrain;
 * When fancy’s fire with judgement had combin’d
 * To guide each effort of th’ enraptur’d mind.
 * Yet are thoſe youthful glowing lays of thine
 * The emanations of a ſoul divine;
 * Who heard thee ſing but felt ſweet muſic’s dart
 * In thrilling tranſports pierce his captiv’d heart?
 * Whether ſoft melting airs attun’d thy ſong,
 * Or pleas’d to pour the thund’ring verſe along,
 * Still nobly great, true offspring of the Nine,
 * Alas! how blaſted in thy glorious prime!
 * So when firſt opes the eye-lids of the morn,
 * A radiant purple does the heav’ns adorn,
 * Freſh ſmiling glory ſtreaks the ſkies around,
 * And gaily ſilvers each enamel’d mound,
 * Till ſome black ſtorm o’erclouds the æther fair,
 * And all its beauties vaniſh into air.
 * 1785, The humming bird: a collection of the most celebrated English and Scots songs, A collection of songs for the ladies, song 330:
 * On his face the vernal roſe,
 * Blended with the lilly glows;
 * His locks are as the raven black,
 * In ringlets woven down his back.
 * His eyes with milder beauties beam,
 * Than billing doves beſide the ſtream;
 * His youthful cheeks are beds of flow’rs
 * Enripen’d by refreſhing ſhow’rs.
 * His lips are of the roſe’s hue,
 * Still dropping with a fragrant dew;
 * Tall as the cedar he appears,
 * And as erect his form he bears.
 * 1810, Samuel Johnson, The Works of the English Poets, from Chaucer to Cowper: Including the Series Edited with Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, the poëms of E. Moore, Fable 2, The Panther, the Horse, and other Beasts, page 210:
 * Trust me, my dear, with greater ease
 * Your taste for flatt’ry I could please,
 * And similics in each dull line,
 * Like glow-worms in the dark, should shine.
 * What if I say your lips disclose
 * The freshness of the op’ning rose?
 * Or that your cheeks are beds of flow’rs,
 * Enripen’d by refreshing show’rs?
 * Yet certain as these flow’rs fade,
 * Time every beauty will invade.
 * The butterfly, of various hue,
 * More than the flow’r resembles you;
 * Fair, fluttering, fickle, busy thing,
 * To pleasure ever on the wing,
 * Gayly coquetting for an hour,
 * To die, and ne’er be thought of more.