Pictorial Calendar of the Seasons, ...Mary Botham Howitt H. G. Bohn, 1854 - 567 páginas |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 1-5 de 71
Página 9
... once to view The face of nature in a rich disguise , And brightened every object to my eyes ; For every shrub , and every blade of grass , And every pointed thorn seemed wrought in glass . In pearls and rubies rich the hawthorns show ...
... once to view The face of nature in a rich disguise , And brightened every object to my eyes ; For every shrub , and every blade of grass , And every pointed thorn seemed wrought in glass . In pearls and rubies rich the hawthorns show ...
Página 30
... once , turned into a sort of Venice . C. Park converted into an island ; and a long range of meadows , from B. to W. , one huge , unnatural lake , with trees growing out of it . Oh , what a watery world ! I will look at it no longer . I ...
... once , turned into a sort of Venice . C. Park converted into an island ; and a long range of meadows , from B. to W. , one huge , unnatural lake , with trees growing out of it . Oh , what a watery world ! I will look at it no longer . I ...
Página 31
... once . Prior to the time of this monarch the Roman year had but ten months , and commenced with March ; but he added January and February , making it begin with January , though the months still retained their old numerical designations ...
... once . Prior to the time of this monarch the Roman year had but ten months , and commenced with March ; but he added January and February , making it begin with January , though the months still retained their old numerical designations ...
Página 52
... once dissolves the snow . Torrents of water then pour from the hills , every brook is swelled into a large stream , which rushes violently into the rivers ; the pavement of ice with which they are covered , now breaks up in every ...
... once dissolves the snow . Torrents of water then pour from the hills , every brook is swelled into a large stream , which rushes violently into the rivers ; the pavement of ice with which they are covered , now breaks up in every ...
Página 75
... once . Moreover it is a goodly sight to see how the cookes in great men's kitchins doe frye in their master's suet , that if ever a cooke be worth the eating , it is when Shrove Tuesday is in towne , for he is so stued and larded ...
... once . Moreover it is a goodly sight to see how the cookes in great men's kitchins doe frye in their master's suet , that if ever a cooke be worth the eating , it is when Shrove Tuesday is in towne , for he is so stued and larded ...
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Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Pictorial Calendar of the Seasons: Exhibiting the Pleasures, Pursuits, and ... Mary Botham Howitt,John Aikin Sin vista previa disponible - 2015 |
Términos y frases comunes
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
Pasajes populares
Página 216 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
Página 209 - 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.
Página 209 - 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.
Página 147 - Thrice welcome, darling of the spring; Even yet thou art to me No bird, but an invisible thing; A voice, a mystery...
Página 105 - ... 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...
Página 105 - 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.
Página 64 - 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.
Página 210 - 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.
Página 548 - 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.
Página 90 - 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.