From a Middlesex Garden: A Book of Garden ThoughtsP. Wellby, 1901 - 313 páginas |
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Página 4
... Morning rises grave or gay And sometimes brings as with the dawn , The Baltic cold with daggers drawn That sweeps the landscape grey , And sometimes a fairer scene Where falls the sun on meadows green While the south - west leads out ...
... Morning rises grave or gay And sometimes brings as with the dawn , The Baltic cold with daggers drawn That sweeps the landscape grey , And sometimes a fairer scene Where falls the sun on meadows green While the south - west leads out ...
Página 13
... morning casement , What a flood of happiness Came with scents and sounds of Summer , Each new day to praise and bless . Hollyhocks beside the pathway ; Lilies rayed in purest light ; Pansies frecked with deepest colours ; Candytuft of ...
... morning casement , What a flood of happiness Came with scents and sounds of Summer , Each new day to praise and bless . Hollyhocks beside the pathway ; Lilies rayed in purest light ; Pansies frecked with deepest colours ; Candytuft of ...
Página 14
... morn , when the night - clouds are parting and every rift seems edged with a fringe of blended silver and rose and gold . Who is that solitary figure who stands on the river's bank ? He is the angler , to be sure : he stands contented ...
... morn , when the night - clouds are parting and every rift seems edged with a fringe of blended silver and rose and gold . Who is that solitary figure who stands on the river's bank ? He is the angler , to be sure : he stands contented ...
Página 28
... morning opens , with an equal mingling of Winter and Spring . The blackbird searching for food is visible from a distance there in the meadow , its plumage glistening , its yellow beak sparkling . Above , the sky is that of earliest ...
... morning opens , with an equal mingling of Winter and Spring . The blackbird searching for food is visible from a distance there in the meadow , its plumage glistening , its yellow beak sparkling . Above , the sky is that of earliest ...
Página 42
... morning and well up to dark , more in the woods than in the garden at first — the certainty that Spring is coming bubbling up in each triple cadence of his song . He sings on rainy days more than other birds do , and prefers them to ...
... morning and well up to dark , more in the woods than in the garden at first — the certainty that Spring is coming bubbling up in each triple cadence of his song . He sings on rainy days more than other birds do , and prefers them to ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
From a Middlesex Garden: A Book of Garden Thoughts (Classic Reprint) Alfred H. Hyatt Sin vista previa disponible - 2018 |
Términos y frases comunes
ALFRED AUSTIN amid Autumn beauty bees beneath birds bloom blossoms blue boughs branches breath breeze bright buds chaffinch charm CHRISTINA ROSSETTI Christmas Rose clouds colour comes daffodils dark dawn delight dreams earth emerald eyes faded fair fall fields flowers foliage fragrant frost garden gathered GERTRUDE JEKYLL glad gold golden grace grass green grey grow happy harvest hawthorn heart hedge hedgerow JEAN INGElow land leaf leafless leaves light lingering loveliness meadows melodies Michael Drayton mist morn MORTIMER COLLINS Nature o'er odour pale pass perfume petals PHILIP BOURKE MARSTON plant poppies purple rain Richard Jefferies rose says scent season seeds shadows silence silver sings skies snow snowdrops song Spring stars Summer sunflowers sunlight sunshine sweet tell tender thrush tint to-day trees twilight violet voice walk wayside garden whisper wild wind wind-flower wings Winter woodland woods year's yellow
Pasajes populares
Página 260 - FLOWER in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower — but if I could understand What you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what God and man is.
Página 84 - OH, to be in England Now that April's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England - now...
Página 233 - Princess" :"Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.
Página 125 - Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. Hail bounteous May that dost inspire Mirth and youth, and warm desire; Woods and groves are of thy dressing, Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
Página 200 - DAY! Faster and more fast, O'er night's brim, day boils at last : Boils, pure gold, o'er the cloud-cup's brim Where spurting and suppressed it lay. For not a froth-flake touched the rim Of yonder gap in the solid gray Of the eastern cloud, an hour away ; But forth one wavelet, then another, curled, Till the whole sunrise, not to be suppressed, Rose, reddened, and its seething breast Flickered in bounds, grew gold, then overflowed the world.
Página 123 - I thought the sparrow's note from heaven, Singing at dawn on the alder bough; I brought him home, in his nest, at even; He sings the song, but it cheers not now, For I did not bring home the river and sky; He sang to my ear, they sang to my eye.
Página 96 - For nought so vile that on the earth doth live But to the earth some special good doth give...
Página 255 - Meek creatures ! the first mercy of the earth, veiling with hushed softness its dintless rocks ; creatures full of pity, covering with strange and tender honour the scarred disgrace of ruin, — laying quiet finger on the trembling stones, to teach them rest.
Página 78 - REMEMBER now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them...
Página 129 - In the dooryard fronting an old farm-house near the whitewash'd palings, Stands the lilac-bush tall-growing with heart-shaped leaves of rich green, With many a pointed blossom rising delicate, with the perfume strong I love, With every leaf a miracle — and from this bush in the dooryard, With delicate-color'd blossoms and heart-shaped leaves of rich green, A sprig with its flower I break.