Pictorial Calendar of the Seasons, ...Mary Botham Howitt H. G. Bohn, 1854 - 567 oldal |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 80 találatból.
15. oldal
... , and other pastimes , give life to this dreary season ; but our frosts are not continued and steady enough to afford us such a share of these diversions as some other nations enjoy . Where the Rhine Branch'd out in many a long canal.
... , and other pastimes , give life to this dreary season ; but our frosts are not continued and steady enough to afford us such a share of these diversions as some other nations enjoy . Where the Rhine Branch'd out in many a long canal.
33. oldal
... give , but who loved the old custom too well to let it pass by unhonoured . But this merry - making by day would seem to have been little more than a prologue , though a very jovial one , to the revel that followed sunset . Deep in the ...
... give , but who loved the old custom too well to let it pass by unhonoured . But this merry - making by day would seem to have been little more than a prologue , though a very jovial one , to the revel that followed sunset . Deep in the ...
42. oldal
... Give then to the king And queen wassailing ; And though with ale ye be whet here ; Yet part ye from hence As free from offence As when ye innocent met here . This has generally been supposed to be in honour of the Three Kings of Cologne ...
... Give then to the king And queen wassailing ; And though with ale ye be whet here ; Yet part ye from hence As free from offence As when ye innocent met here . This has generally been supposed to be in honour of the Three Kings of Cologne ...
43. oldal
... Give St. Distaff all the right Then bid Christmas sport good night ; And next morrow every one To his own vocation . PLOUGH MONDAY ; the first Monday after Twelfth Night . -This day is more peculiarly the ploughman's holiday , for ...
... Give St. Distaff all the right Then bid Christmas sport good night ; And next morrow every one To his own vocation . PLOUGH MONDAY ; the first Monday after Twelfth Night . -This day is more peculiarly the ploughman's holiday , for ...
46. oldal
... give anything to know when they shall be married , how many husbands they shall have , by cromnyomantia , a kinde of divination with onions laid on the altar on Christmass Eve , or by fasting on St. Agnes ' Eve or night , who shall be ...
... give anything to know when they shall be married , how many husbands they shall have , by cromnyomantia , a kinde of divination with onions laid on the altar on Christmass Eve , or by fasting on St. Agnes ' Eve or night , who shall be ...
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Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Pictorial Calendar of the Seasons: Exhibiting the Pleasures, Pursuits, and ... Mary Botham Howitt,John Aikin Nincs elérhető előnézet - 2015 |
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
amongst ancient animal aphides appear autumn beautiful bees begin birds blossoms blue boughs branches bright buds called Candlemas chaffinch Christmas church clouds cockchafer cold colour corn cowslip cuckoo custom dark delight Druids earth Easter egg eggs female festival fieldfare fields fire flowers forest frost garden grass green hath head hear heart heaven hedges hour insects labour lamb larvæ leaves light look marsh-marigold MARY HOWITT meadows merry Michaelmas misletoe month morning nature nest night nightingale o'er observed passing PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY plants Plough Monday poet quadrupeds queen Roman rose round Saxon says season seems seen sheep Shrove Tuesday sing skylark snow song species spring stars stream summer swallow sweet thee thou torpid trees voice walk weather whole wild WILLIAM HOWITT wind wings winter woods yellow young
Népszerű szakaszok
216. oldal - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
209. oldal - Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not. Like a high-born maiden In a palace tower, Soothing her love-laden Soul in secret hour With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower.
209. oldal - Teach us, sprite or bird, What sweet thoughts are thine ; I have never heard Praise of love or wine That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.
147. oldal - Thrice welcome, darling of the spring; Even yet thou art to me No bird, but an invisible thing; A voice, a mystery...
105. oldal - ... Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced, but they Outdid the sparkling waves in glee : A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company : I gazed — and gazed — but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought : For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude ; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with...
105. oldal - I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
64. oldal - Go, from the creatures thy instructions take; learn from the birds what food the thickets yield; learn from the beasts the physic of the field; thy arts of building from the bee receive ; learn of the mole to plough, the worm to weave ; learn of the little nautilus to sail, spread the thin oar and catch the driving gale.
210. oldal - We look before and after, And pine for what is not ; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
548. oldal - And should my youth, as youth is apt, I know, Some harshness show, All vain asperities I day by day Would wear away, Till the smooth temper of my age should be Like the high leaves upon the Holly tree.
90. oldal - It is the first mild day of March : Each minute sweeter than before. The red-breast sings from the tall larch That stands beside our door. There is a blessing in the air, Which seems a sense of joy to yield To the bare trees, and mountains bare, And grass in the green field.