... The Plant World: Its Romances and Realities

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Frank Vincent
D. Appleton, 1897 - 228 oldal
 

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30. oldal - ... and the hyacinth purple, and white, and blue, which flung from its bells a sweet peal anew of music so delicate, soft, and intense, it was felt like an odour within the sense...
1. oldal - Along these blushing borders bright with dew, And in yon mingled wilderness of flowers, Fair-handed Spring unbosoms every grace — Throws out the snow-drop and the crocus first...
53. oldal - For him the wind, ay, and the yellow leaves, Shall have a voice, and give him eloquent teachings. He shall so hear the solemn hymn that Death Has lifted up for all, that he shall go To his long resting-place without a tear.
116. oldal - And taste, to him the gushing of the wave Far far away did seem to mourn and rave On alien shores...
2. oldal - Low bent, and blushing inward ; nor jonquils, Of potent fragrance ; nor Narcissus fair, As o'er the fabled fountain hanging still ; Nor broad carnations, nor gay-spotted pinks ; Nor, shower'd from every bush, the damask-rose. Infinite numbers, delicacies, smells, With hues on hues expression cannot paint, The breath of Nature, and her endless bloom.
188. oldal - Ah ! on Thanksgiving day, when from East and from West, From North and from South come the pilgrim and guest, When the gray-haired...
1. oldal - On the charmed eye, th' exulting florist marks, With secret pride, the wonders of his hand. No gradual bloom is wanting from the bud, First-born of Spring, to Summer's musky tribes ; Nor hyacinths of purest virgin white, Low-bent, and blushing inward ; nor jonquils — Of potent fragrance; nor Narcissus fair, As o'er the fabled fountain hanging still ; Nor broad carnations, nor gay-spotted pinks ; Nor, showered from every bush, the damask rose.
29. oldal - The snowdrop and then the violet Arose from the ground with warm rain wet, And their breath was mixed with fresh odor, sent From the turf, like the voice and the instrument. Then the pied wind-flowers and the tulip tall, And narcissi, the fairest among them all, Who gaze on their eyes in the stream's recess Till they die of their own dear loveliness...
173. oldal - WHO has not heard of the Vale of Cashmere, With its roses the brightest that earth ever gave, Its temples, and grottos, and fountains as clear As the love-lighted eyes that hang over their wave...

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