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Anglesey Anthers awl-shaped banks base Ben Lawers Bloss Blossom blunt branched Brit brown Bungay Calyx Capsules colour corn-fields corymb cottony Curt cylindrical Dicks Dill downy edge egg-shaped entire feet high Floral-leaves Florets flowers fringed fruit Fruit-stalks G. E. Smith green Grev hairs hairy heart-shaped heaths hedges Hedw Hills Hook Hooker Huds inches high inches long Involucrum leaf leaf-stalks leafits leaves spear-shaped Legume Lightf Linn lobes meadows mid-rib moist mountains Muse naked nearly notched numerous oblong pale panicle pastures Pentland Hills petals pistils pointed purple purplish Purton reddish rocks root Root-leaves roundish scales Scotland Seeds segments serrated sessile shady Shoots short side slender smooth solitary sometimes species stalks stamens Stem upright stem-leaves strap-shaped Teesdale teeth Thread-moss toothed trees upper Veil Warwickshire Welsh Bot Whole plant Willd Winch wing-cleft winged woods Woodw Woodward woolly Worcestershire yellow Yorkshire
Seite 817 - There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale, Which to this day stands single, in the midst Of its own darkness, as it stood of yore : Not loth to furnish weapons for the bands Of Umfraville or Percy ere they marched To Scotland's heaths ; or those that crossed the sea And drew their sounding bows at Azincour, Perhaps at earlier Crecy, or Poictiers.
Seite 967 - When this I meditate, methinks the flowers Have spirits far more generous than ours, And give us fair examples, to despise The servile fawnings and idolatries Wherewith we court these earthly things below, Which merit not the service we bestow.
Seite 952 - Tis Flora's page: — In every place, In every season, fresh and fair, It opens with perennial grace, And blossoms everywhere. On waste and woodland, rock and plain, Its humble buds unheeded rise; The Rose has but a summer reign, — The Daisy never dies.
Seite 818 - ... whose sable roof Of boughs, as if for festal purpose, decked With unrejoicing berries, ghostly Shapes May meet at noontide; FEAR and trembling HOPE, SILENCE and FORESIGHT; DEATH, the Skeleton, And TIME, the Shadow; there to celebrate, As in a natural temple scattered o'er With altars undisturbed of mossy stone, United worship; or in mute repose To lie, and listen to the mountain flood Murmuring from Glaramara's inmost caves.
Seite 895 - In every copse and sheltered dell, Unveiled to the observant eye, Are faithful monitors who tell How pass the hours and seasons by. The green-robed children of the spring Will mark the periods as they pass, Mingle with leaves Time's feathered wing, And bind with flowers his silent glass.
Seite 875 - But it drooped its head that plant of power, And died the mute death of the voiceless flower ; And a withered wreath on the ground it lay, More meet for a burial than bridal day. And when a year was...
Seite 832 - Their groves o' sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon, Where bright-beaming summers exalt the perfume, Far dearer to me yon lone glen o' green breckan, Wi' the burn stealing under the lang yellow broom : Far dearer to me are yon humble broom bowers, Where the blue-bell and gowan lurk lowly unseen : For there, lightly tripping amang the wild flowers, A listening the linnet, aft wanders my Jean. Tho...
Seite 968 - To trace in nature's most minute design The signature and stamp of power divine, Contrivance intricate, expressed with ease, Where unassisted -sight no beauty sees, The shapely limb and lubricated joint, Within the small dimensions of a point, Muscle and nerve miraculously spun, His mighty work, who speaks and it is done, The invisible in things scarce seen revealed, To whom an atom is an ample field; To wonder at a thousand insect forms.
Seite 896 - With young Aurora's rosy hue, Are to the noontide Sun displayed, But shut their plaits against the dew. On upland slopes the shepherds mark The hour, when, as the dial true, Cichorium to the towering Lark Lifts her soft eyes serenely blue. And thou, " Wee crimson tipped flower," Gatherest thy fringed mantle round Thy bosom, at the closing hour, When nightdrops bathe the turfy ground.
Seite 724 - Here their delicious task the fervent bees, In swarming millions, tend. Around, athwart, Through the soft air, the busy nations fly, Cling to the bud, and, with inserted tube, Suck its pure essence, its ethereal soul. And oft, with bolder wing, they, soaring, dare The purple heath, or where the wild thyme grows, And yellow load them with the luscious spoil.