Up the river |
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barn-yard basket beauty beneath birds bloom blue bobolink bright bull-frogs cataract CHANTICLEER charming cheeks chickens clouds Cochin-China cock cold corn crow Crow Hill dead delightful door Dutchess county ears earth eclogues eggs epicure feathers feel flowers fowls fresh frontal bones garden grace green hand head heard heart hills horse hour jaundice Jenny Lind light little owl live long gun look morning mosquitoes mountains nature neighbours nest never night Ockle piazza picked pig-pen pleasant pleasant garden present radishes rich river rocks rolled rose round scarce season shadow Shanghai sight Sing-Sing smell snow sound spot stand stream summer sweet tail taste tender things thou thought tion trees turned VANDERDONK VINNIUS walk waves whip-poor-wills wild wind wings winter woods young
热门引用章节
第165页 - There is some delicacy in thieves." Alas! on reaching it, somebody had taken a large bite out of the ripest cheek, but with a sacrilegious witticism had left it sticking to the stem. The detestable prints of the teeth which bit it were still in it, and a wasp was gloating at its core. Had he taken the whole peach I should have vented my feelings in a violence of indignation unsuited to a balmy garden. But as he was joker enough to bite only its sunny side, I must forgive him, as one who has some...
第203页 - Sweet echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen Within thy airy shell By slow Meander's margent green, And in the violet-embroidered vale Where the love-lorn nightingale Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well: Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair That likest thy Narcissus are? O, if thou have Hid them in some flowery cave, Tell me but where, Sweet Queen of Parley, Daughter of the Sphere! So may'st thou be translated to the skies, And give resounding grace to all Heaven's harmonies!
第49页 - SWEET day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night, For thou must die. Sweet rose, whose hue angry and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My music shows ye have your closes, And...
第308页 - HAPPY the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air, In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire ; Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter fire.
第325页 - And because the breath of flowers is far sweeter in the air (where it comes and goes like the warbling of music) than in the hand...
第284页 - Whose hat with tatter'd brim, of nap so bare, From the cow's side purloins a coat of hair, A mottled ensign of his harmless trade, An unambitious, peaceable cockade.
第324页 - ... a green in the entrance, a heath, or desert, in the going forth, and the main garden in the midst, besides alleys on both sides; and, I like well, that four acres of ground be assigned to the green, six to the heath, four and four to either side, and twelve to the main garden.
第164页 - LAST year I had a solitary peach upon a solitary tree, for the early frost frustrated the delicious crop. This only one, which, from its golden color, might be entitled El Dorado, I watched with fear and trembling from day to day, patiently waiting for the identical time when I should buoy it up carefully in my hand, that its pulp should not be bruised, tear off its thin peel, admonished that the time had come by a gradual releasing of the fruit from its adhesion to the stem, and I appointed the...
第284页 - Echo answer'd from her close retreat; The sporting White-throat on some twig's end borne, Pour'd hymns to freedom and the rising morn ; Stopt in her song perchance the starting Thrush Shook a white shower from the black-thorn bush, Where dew-drops thick as early blossoms hung, And trembled as the minstrel sweetly sung.
第88页 - I get him into bed, and after his nightcap is on, and his head upon the pillow, I say, " Good night; pleasant dreams to you." " Good night," he responded, with a feeble smile. Then I tumbled into my own bed, which was made up anyhow, looking out first on the moon just rising above the fog.