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Plant Lore, Legends, and Lyrics: Embracing the Myths, Traditions ...
No preview available - 2015
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Page 193 - With fairest flowers, Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave : thou shalt not lack The flower that's like thy face, pale primrose ; nor The azured hare-bell, like thy veins ; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten'd not thy breath...
Page 70 - Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire, I do wander every where, Swifter than the moon's sphere ; And I serve the fairy queen, To dew her orbs upon the green. The cowslips tall her pensioners be : In their gold coats spots you see ; Those be rubies, fairy favours, In those freckles live their savours : I must go seek some dewdrops here, And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.
Page 218 - With these thou seest— if indeed I go (For all my mind is clouded with a doubt) — To the island-valley of Avilion ; Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow. Nor ever wind blows loudly ; but it lies Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard lawns And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.
Page 60 - The glory of Lebanon shall come unto thee, the fir tree, the pine tree, and the box together, to beautify the place of my sanctuary; and I will make the place of my feet glorious.
Page 60 - I will plant in the wilderness the cedar, the shittah tree, and the myrtle, and the oil tree; I will set in the desert the fir tree, and the pine, and the box tree together...
Page 552 - My lord of Ely, when I was last in Holborn, I saw good strawberries in your garden there ; I do beseech you send for some of them.
Page 212 - The eternal regions. Lowly reverent Towards either throne they bow, and to the ground With solemn adoration down they cast Their crowns inwove with amarant and gold ; Immortal amarant, a flower which once In Paradise, fast by the tree of life, Began to bloom...
Page 70 - I where the bolt of Cupid fell : It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound. And maidens call it love-in-idleness.
Page 535 - tis, to cast one's eyes so low! The crows and choughs that wing the midway air Show scarce so gross as beetles: halfway down Hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful trade!
Page 448 - The kingdom of heaven is like to a grain of mustard seed, which a man took, and sowed in his field, which indeed is the least of all seeds, but when it is grown, it is the greatest among herbs, and becometh a tree, so that the birds of the air come and lodge in the branches thereof.