The Gardener's Monthly and Horticultural Advertiser, Том 15

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Charles H. Marot, 1873

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Стр. 282 - At last the rootlets of the trees Shall find the prison where she lies, And bear the buried dust they seize In leaves and blossoms to the skies.
Стр. 356 - Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play, Time writes no wrinkles on thine azure brow; Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
Стр. 282 - And gray old trees of hugest limb Shall wheel their circling shadows round To make the scorching sunlight dim That drinks the greenness from the ground, And drop their dead leaves on her mound.
Стр. 285 - Then there is a rich glutinous smoothness in the pulp which nothing else possesses, but which adds to its delicacy. It is neither acid, nor sweet nor juicy, yet one feels the want of none of these qualities, for it is perfect as it is.
Стр. 282 - And through their leaves the robins call, And, ripening in the autumn sun, The acorns and the chestnuts fall, Doubt not that she will heed them all. For her the morning choir shall sing Its matins from the branches high, And every minstrel voice of Spring, That trills beneath the April sky, Shall greet her with its earliest cry.
Стр. 168 - They are related to the protoplasm of the plant, as the protoplasm of the plant is to that of the animal. Carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen are all lifeless bodies. Of these, carbon and oxygen unite in certain proportions and under certain conditions, to give rise to...
Стр. 249 - As I contemplated it, I could not help thinking of Andromeda as described by the poets; and the more I meditated upon their descriptions, the more applicable they seemed to the little plant before me ; so that, if these writers had had it in view, they could scarcely have contrived a more apposite fable.
Стр. 174 - And there's not more bless'd than I, One of Adam's race to-day. Out beneath thy noontide sky ! Earth, how beautiful! — how clear Of cloud or mist the atmosphere ! What a glory greets the eye ! What a calm, or quiet stir, Steals o'er Nature's worshipper — Silent, yet so eloquent, That we feel 't is heaven-sent — Waking thoughts that long have slumber'd Passion-dimm'd and earth-encumber'd — Bearing soul and sense away.
Стр. 282 - Her hands are cold ; her face is white ; No more her pulses come and go ; Her eyes are shut to life and light ; — Fold the white vesture, snow on snow, And lay her where the violets blow. But not beneath a graven stone, To plead for tears with alien eyes ; A slender cross of wood alone Shall say, that here a maiden lies In peace beneath the peaceful skies.
Стр. 282 - HER hands are cold; her face is white; No more her pulses come and go ; Her eyes are shut to life and light; — Fold the white vesture, snow on snow, And lay her where the violets blow. But not beneath a graven stone, To plead for tears with alien eyes; A slender cross of wood alone Shall say, that here a maiden lies In peace beneath the peaceful skies. And gray old trees of hugest limb Shall wheel their circling shadows round To make...

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