Moths of the Limberlost: With Water Color and Photographic Illustrations from Life

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Doubleday, Page, 1916 - Moths - 369 pages
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Page 264 - ... dwelt among; All beside was unknown waste, All was picture as he passed. Wiser far than human seer, Yellow-breeched philosopher ! Seeing only what is fair, Sipping only what is sweet, Thou dost mock at fate and care, Leave the chaff, and take the wheat. When the fierce northwestern blast Cools sea and land so far and fast, Thou already slumberest deep; Woe and want thou canst outsleep; Want and woe, which torture us, Thy sleep makes ridiculous.
Page 298 - Insect lover of the sun, Joy of thy dominion! Sailor of the atmosphere; Swimmer through the waves of air; Voyager of light and noon; Epicurean of June; Wait, I prithee, till I come Within earshot of thy hum,-- All without is martyrdom.
Page 334 - Of ruin'd shrines, busy and bright As they were all alive with light,— And yet more splendid, numerous flocks Of pigeons, settling on the rocks, With their rich restless wings, that gleam Variously in the crimson beam Of the warm west, — as if inlaid With brilliants from the mine, or made Of tearless rainbows, such as span Th
Page xiv - Of fruits, and flowers, and bunches of knot-grass, And diamonded with panes of quaint device, Innumerable of stains and splendid dyes, As are the tiger-moth's deep-damask'd wings; And in the midst, 'mong thousand heraldries, And twilight saints, and dim emblazonings, A shielded scutcheon blush'd with blood of queens and kings.
Page 10 - ... my eyes on the individual entitled to that name ? A society may call itself an Entomological Society, but the man who arrogates such a broad title as that to himself, in the present state of science, is a pretender, sir, a dilettante, an impostor ! No man can be truly called an entomologist, sir; the subject is too vast for any single human intelligence to grasp.
Page 170 - Who but would cast his pomp away, To take my staff, and amice gray; And to the world's tumultuous stage Prefer the blameless hermitage?
Page 152 - ... clear, Banished to silence drear, — The willing thrall of trances sweet I lie. Some melancholy gale Breathes its mysterious tale, Till the rose's lips grow pale With her sighs ; And o'er my thoughts are cast Tints of the vanished past, Glories that faded fast, Renewed to splendor in my dreaming eyes. As poised on vibrant wings, Where its sweet treasure swings, The honey-lover clings To the red flowers...
Page 51 - ... she has mated or not. In case a mate has found her, a small pouch near the end of her abdomen is filled with a fluid that touches each egg in passing and renders it fertile. The eggs differ with species and are placed according to family characteristics. They may be pure white, pearl-coloured, grey, greenish, or yellow. There are round, flat, and oblong eggs. These are placed differently in freedom and captivity. A moth in a natural location glues her eggs, often one at a time, on the under or...
Page 121 - ... plates in my holders, so I was compelled to stop. It was as well, for surely the record was complete, and I was almost prostrate with excitement and heat. Several days later I opened each of the cocoons and made interior studies. The one on the right was split down the left side and turned back to shpw the bed of spun silk of exquisite colour that covers the inner case. Some say this silk has no commercial value, as it is cut in lengths reaching from the top around the inner case and back to...
Page 170 - At eve, within yon studious nook, I ope my brass-embossed book, ' Portrayed with many a holy deed Of martyrs, crowned with heavenly meed; Then, as my taper waxes dim, Chant, ere I sleep, my measured hymn, And at the close, the gleams behold Of parting wings, be-dropt with gold.

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