Weather Opinions: A Book of Quotations with Interleaves on Weather Subjects

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Jennie Day Haines
P. Elder, 1907 - Weather - 98 pages
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Page 81 - THE DAY IS DONE. THE day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, That my soul cannot resist : A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
Page 93 - Tu-whit, tu-who ! a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit, tu-who...
Page 63 - WELL ! If the Bard was weather-wise, who made The grand old ballad of Sir Patrick Spence, This night, so tranquil now, will not go hence Unroused by winds, that ply a busier trade Than those which mould yon cloud, in lazy flakes, Or the dull sobbing draft, that moans and rakes Upon the strings of this Eolian lute, Which better far were mute.
Page 55 - My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky : So was it when my life began ; So is it now I am a man ; So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die ! " The child is father of the man ; And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
Page 28 - The thin gray cloud is spread on high, It covers but not hides the sky. The moon is behind, and at the full; And yet she looks both small and dull.
Page 59 - Of nature's womb, that in quaternion run Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix And nourish all things, let your ceaseless change Vary to our great Maker still new praise. Ye mists and exhalations, that now rise From hill or steaming lake, dusky or gray, Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, In honour to the world's great Author rise...
Page 51 - Think, every morning when the sun peeps through The dim, leaf-latticed windows of the grove, How jubilant the happy birds renew Their old, melodious madrigals of love ! And when you think of this, remember, too, 'Tis always morning somewhere, and above The awakening continents, from shore to shore, Somewhere the birds are singing evermore.
Page 82 - There is not wind enough in the air To move away the ringlet curl From the lovely lady's cheek — There is n^ttt wind enough to twirl The one red leaf, the last of its clan, That dances as often as dance it can, Hanging so light, and hanging so high, On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky.
Page 95 - ANNOUNCED by all the trumpets of the sky, Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields, Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven, And veils the farm-house 'at the garden's end. The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed In a tumultuous privacy of storm.
Page 18 - YOU FEAR THE WIND? Do you fear the force of the wind, The slash of the rain? Go face them and fight them, Be savage again. Go hungry and cold like the wolf, Go wade like the crane: The palms of your hands will thicken, The skin of your cheek will tan, You'll grow ragged and weary and swarthy, But you'll walk like a man!

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