Hours in My Garden: And Other Nature-sketchesMacmillan, 1893 - 340 páginas |
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Hours in My Garden, and Other Nature Sketches Alexander H. (Alexander Hay) Japp Sin vista previa disponible - 2012 |
Términos y frases comunes
banks beautiful beech bees birds blackbird blue tits branches brood brown rat Castle chaffinch church close colour coot Coquet Coquet Island Coquetdale corncrake corner Coupland Castle dark delicious delightful Dryburgh Abbey early effect eggs fancy farmer favourite feet field Finchale Priory fish flowers fond fruit garden give goes green heard hedge hedgerow heron hills hive insects instinct kind leaves light Loch Hourn look morning moths nature neighbours nest night nightingale NIGHTJAR numbers observed once pass peculiar perhaps picturesque pond pools rising river rooks Rothbury round rushes season seen shadow side singing soft sometimes song sound sparrows spot spring starling sticklebacks stream summer Sunderland Bridge sweet things thrushes trees Tweed voles walk watch water-hens wheat wild wind wings wonderful wood woodpecker Wooler Wooler Water Yeavering Bell young
Pasajes populares
Página 99 - And after April, when May follows, And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows? Hark, where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge Leans to the field and scatters on the clover Blossoms and dewdrops — at the bent spray's edge- — That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, Lest you should think he never could recapture The first fine careless rapture!
Página 229 - DAY set on Norham's castled steep, And Tweed's fair river, broad and deep, And Cheviot's mountains lone ; The battled towers, the donjon keep, The loophole grates where captives weep, The flanking walls that round it sweep, In yellow lustre shone.
Página 99 - Oh, to be in England Now that April's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brush-wood sheaf Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England — now! And after April, when May follows, And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows ! Hark, where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge Leans to the field and scatters on the clover Blossoms and dewdrops — at the bent spray's edge — That's...
Página 117 - The birds around me hopped and played, Their thoughts I cannot measure : — But the least motion which they made It seemed a thrill of pleasure. The budding twigs spread out their fan, To catch the breezy air; And I must think, do all I can, That there was pleasure there.
Página 100 - O READER ! hast thou ever stood to see The holly tree? The eye that contemplates it well, perceives Its glossy leaves, Ordered by an intelligence so wise As might confound the atheist's sophistries. Below a circling fence, its leaves are seen Wrinkled and keen ; No grazing cattle, through their prickly round, Can reach to wound, But as they grow where nothing is to fear, Smooth and unarmed the pointless leaves appear.
Página 154 - And for your sake, the woman that he chose, And for this orphan, I am come to you : You know there has not been for these five years So full a harvest : let me take the boy, And I will set him in my uncle's eye Among the wheat; that when his heart is glad Of the full harvest, he may see the boy, And bless him for the sake of him that's gone.
Página 125 - WHEN cats run home and light is come, And dew is cold upon the ground, And the far-off stream is dumb, And the whirring sail goes round, And the whirring sail goes round ; Alone and warming his five wits, The white owl in the belfry sits.
Página 152 - Princess" :"Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.
Página 87 - trust the Oak, and the Elm, and the great Beech. Take care of the Birch, for though she is honest, she is too young not to be changeable. But shun the Ash and the Alder ; for the Ash is an ogre — you will know him by his thick fingers; and the Alder will smother you with her web of hair, if you let her near you at night.
Página 192 - When the flowers come again, mother, beneath the waning light, You'll never see me more in the long gray fields at night ; When from the dry dark wold the summer airs blow cool On the oat-grass and the sword-grass, and the bulrush in the pool.