Our Northern Shrubs and how to Identify Them: A Handbook for the Nature-lovers

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C. Scribner's sons, 1903 - 521 Seiten
 

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Seite 362 - Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing, Then Beauty is its own excuse for being : Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose ! I never thought to ask, I never knew ; But in my simple ignorance suppose The self -same Power that brought me there brought you.
Seite 180 - With fairest flowers, Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave : thou shalt not lack The flower that's like thy face, pale primrose ; nor The azured hare-bell, like thy veins ; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten'd not thy breath...
Seite 180 - I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows, Where ox-lips and the nodding violet grows ; Quite over-canopied with lush woodbine, With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine...
Seite 442 - Virginia," published in 1705, states that "at the mouth of their rivers, and all along upon the sea and bay, and near many of their creeks and swamps, grows the myrtle, bearing a berry, of which they make a hard brittle wax, of a curious green color, which by refining becomes almost transparent. Of this they make candles, which are never greasy to the touch nor melt with lying in the hottest weather; neither does the snuff of these ever offend the smell, like that of a tallow candle; but, instead...
Seite 394 - Mayflower ! watched by winter stars, And nursed by winter gales, With petals of the sleeted spars, And leaves of frozen sails ! What had she in those dreary hours, Within her ice-rimmed bay, In common with the wild-wood flowers, The first sweet smiles of May ? Yet, " God be praised ! " the Pilgrim said, Who saw the blossoms peer Above the brown leaves, dry and dead, " Behold our Mayflower here I " " God wills it : here our rest shall be, Our years of wandering o'er ; For us the Mayflower of the sea...
Seite 114 - The hope, in dreams, of a happier hour That alights on misery's brow, Springs out of the silvery almond -flower, That blooms on a leafless bough.
Seite 382 - This plant is always fixed on some little turfy hillock in the midst of the swamps, as Andromeda herself was chained to a rock in the sea, which bathed her feet, as the fresh water does the roots of the plant.
Seite 442 - ... to the touch nor melt with lying in the hottest weather; neither does the snuff of these ever offend the smell, like that of a tallow candle; but, instead of being disagreeable, if an accident puts a candle out, it yields a pleasant fragrancy to all that are in the room; insomuch that nice people often put them out on purpose to have the incense of the expiring snuff. The melting of these berries is said to have been first found out by a surgeon in New England, who performed wonderful things...
Seite 362 - On the margin of some quiet swamp a myriad of bare twigs seem suddenly overspread with purple butterflies, and we know that the Rhodora is in bloom. Wordsworth never immortalized a flower more surely than Emerson this, and it needs no weaker words ; there is nothing else in which the change from nakedness to beauty is so sudden, and when you bring home the great mass of blossoms they appear all ready to flutter away again from your hands and leave you disenchanted.
Seite 462 - These are so sensitive, that, if you pluck them at almost any time during the winter, a few days' sunshine will make them open in a vase of water, and thus they eagerly yield to every moment of April warmth. The blossom of the birch is more delicate, that of the willow more showy, but the alders come first. They cluster and dance everywhere upon the bare boughs above the watercourses ; the blackness of the buds is softened into rich brown and yellow ; and as this graceful creature thus comes waving...

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