Flora Hertfordiensis: or A catalogue of plants found in the county of Hertford, by R.H. Webb and W.H. Coleman (Google eBook)

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1849
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Page 99 - Nature never did betray The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege, Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy: for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith that all which we behold Is...
Page 299 - ... 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. The waves beside them danced; but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company...
Page 52 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude; 'tis but to hold Converse with...
Page 37 - One Spirit his, Who wore the platted thorns with bleeding brows. Rules universal nature. Not a flower But shows some touch in freckle, streak, or stain, Of his unrivalled pencil.
Page 104 - Then wherefore, wherefore were they made, All dyed with rainbow light, All fashioned with supremest grace Upspringing day and night : Springing in valleys green and low. And on the mountains high, And in the silent wilderness Where no man passes by...
Page 251 - In still retreats and flowery solitudes, To Nature's voice attends, from month to month, And day to day, through the revolving year; Admiring, sees her in her every shape ; Feels all her sweet emotions at his heart; Takes what she liberal gives, nor thinks of more.
Page 183 - 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.
Page 96 - But who can paint Like Nature? Can imagination boast, Amid its gay creation, hues like hers ? Or can it mix them with that matchless skill, And lose them in each other, as appears In every bud that blows...
Page 105 - The grand transition, that there lives and works A soul in all things, and that soul is God. The beauties of the wilderness are His, That make so gay the solitary place Where no eye sees them.
Page 136 - He looks abroad into the varied field Of nature, and though poor perhaps, compared With those whose mansions glitter in his sight, Calls the delightful scenery all his own. His are the mountains, and the valleys his, And the resplendent rivers. His to enjoy With a propriety that none can feel But who with filial confidence inspired, Can lift to Heaven an unpresumptuous eye, And smiling say

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