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Glimpses of the Animate World: Or Science and Literature of Natural History ...
No preview available - 2018
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Page 30 - 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.
Page 1 - The groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, And spread the roof above them — ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems ; in the darkling .wood, Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down, And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks And supplication.
Page 52 - ... and the hyacinth purple, and white, and blue, which flung from its bells a sweet peal anew of music so delicate, soft, and intense, it was felt like an odour within the sense...
Page 193 - Off is his holiday garment laid. Half forgotten that merry air : Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, Nobody knows but my mate and I Where our nest and our nestlings lie, Chee, chee, chee.
Page 1 - Which, from the stilly twilight of the place, And from the gray old trunks that high in heaven Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound Of the invisible breath that swayed at once All their green tops, stole over him, and bowed His spirit with the thought of boundless power 18 And inaccessible majesty. Ah, why Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore Only among the crowd, and under roofs That our frail hands have raised?
Page 119 - 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. When the south wind, in May days, With a net of shining haze Silvers the horizon wall ; And, with softness touching all. Tints the human countenance With...
Page 52 - A SENSITIVE Plant in a garden grew, •^^ And the young winds fed it with silver dew, And it opened its fan-like leaves to the light, And closed them beneath the kisses of night.
Page 53 - Gazed through clear dew on the tender sky ; And the jessamine faint, and the sweet tuberose. The sweetest flower for scent that blows ; And all rare blossoms from every clime Grew in that garden in perfect prime.
Page 192 - Six white eggs on a bed of hay, Flecked with purple, a pretty sight! There as the mother sits all day, Robert is singing with all his might: Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink ; Nice good wife, that never goes out, Keeping house while I frolic about. Chee, chee, chee.