The Garden: An Illustrated Weekly Journal of Gardening in All Its Branches, 第 3 卷

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W. Robinson, 1873
 

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第46页 - Father, thy hand Hath reared these venerable columns, thou Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose All these fair ranks of trees.
第46页 - Report not. No fantastic carvings show The boast of our vain race to change the form Of thy fair works. But thou art here — thou fill'st The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds That run along the summit of these trees In music ; — thou art in the cooler breath That from the inmost darkness of the place Comes, scarcely felt ; the barky trunks, the ground, The fresh moist ground, are all instinct with thee.
第46页 - E'er wore his crown as loftily as he Wears the green coronal of leaves with which Thy hand has graced him. Nestled at his root Is beauty, such as blooms not in the glare Of the broad sun.
第46页 - Upon the naked earth, and forthwith rose All these fair ranks of trees. They in Thy sun Budded, and shook their green leaves in Thy breeze, And shot towards heaven. The century-living crow, Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died Among their branches, till, at last, they stood, As now they stand, massy, and tall, and dark, Fit shrine for humble worshipper to hold Communion with his Maker.
第xi页 - Like the vase in which roses have once been distilled — You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.
第92页 - T' entice him to a throne again. If I, my friends (said he), should to you show All the delights, which in these gardens grow, 'Tis likelier much, that you should with me stay, Than 'tis, that you should carry me away : And trust me not, my friends, if, every day, I walk not here with more delight Than ever, after the most happy fight, In triumph, to the capitol, I rod, To thank the gods, and to be thought, myself, almost a god.
第179页 - A rich butter-like custard highly flavoured with almonds gives the best general idea of it, but intermingled with it come wafts of flavour that call to mind cream-cheese, onion-sauce, brown sherry, and other incongruities. Then there is a rich glutinous smoothness in the pulp which nothing else possesses, but which adds to its delicacy. It is neither acid, nor sweet, nor juicy, yet one feels the want of none of these qualities, for it is perfect as it is.
第179页 - Thy hand has graced him. Nestled at his root Is beauty, such as blooms not in the glare Of the broad sun. That delicate forest flower, With scented breath, and look so like a smile, Seems, as it issues from the shapeless mould, An emanation of the indwelling Life, A visible token of the upholding Love, That are the soul of this wide universe.
第6页 - On ev'ry side you look, behold the Wall ! No pleasing Intricacies intervene, No artful wildness to perplex the scene; Grove nods at grove, each Alley has a brother, And half the platform just reflects the other.
第58页 - ... grass and the aromatic shrubs, which clothe more or less almost the whole of Syria and Arabia. But they also glow with what is peculiar to Palestine, a profusion of wild flowers, Daisies, the white flower called the Star of Bethlehem; but especially with a blaze of scarlet flowers of all kinds, chiefly Anemones, Wild Tulips and Poppies. Of all the ordinary aspects of the country, this blaze of scarlet colour is perhaps the most peculiar ; and, to those who first enter the Holy Land, it is no...

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