How to Know the Wild Flowers: A Guide to the Names, Haunts, and Habits of Our Common Wild Flowers

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C. Scribner's sons, 1898 - 373 pages
 

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Page 218 - IN May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes, I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods, Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook, To please the desert and the sluggish brook. The purple petals fallen in the pool Made the black water with their beauty gay; Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool, And court the flower that cheapens his array.
Page 148 - PANSIES, lilies, kingcups, daisies, Let them live upon their praises ; Long as there's a sun that sets, Primroses will have their glory ; Long as there are violets, They will have a place in story : There's a flower that shall be mine, 'Tis the little Celandine.
Page 218 - Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why This charm is wasted on the earth and sky, 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 373 - HOW TO KNOW THE WILD FLOWERS. A Guide to the Names, Haunts, and Habits of our Common Wild Flowers. By Mrs. WILLIAM STARR DANA.
Page 276 - THE fresh savannas of the Sangamon Here rise in gentle swells, and the long grass Is mixed with rustling hazels. Scarlet tufts Are glowing in the green, like flakes of fire ; The wanderers of the prairie know them well, And call that brilliant flower the Painted Cup.
Page 274 - HAST thou named all the birds without a gun ? Loved the wood-rose, and left it on its stalk? At rich men's tables eaten bread and pulse ? Unarmed, faced danger with a heart of trust ? And loved so well a high behaviour, In man or maid, that thou from speech refrained, Nobility more nobly to repay ? O, be my friend, and teach me to be thine...
Page 346 - Nod o'er the ground-bird's hidden nest. Thou waitest late and com'st alone, When woods are bare and birds are flown, And frosts and shortening days portend The aged year is near his end. Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye Look through its fringes to the sky, Blue — blue — as if that sky let fall A flower from its cerulean wall.
Page 170 - SPAKE full well, in language quaint and olden, One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, When he called the flowers, so blue and golden, Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine.
Page 272 - Loving the wind that bent me. All my hurts My garden spade can heal. A woodland walk, A quest of river-grapes, a mocking thrush, A wild-rose, or rock-loving columbine, Salve my worst wounds.
Page 214 - Maine he sought the lumberers' gang Where from a hundred lakes young rivers sprang ; He trode the unplanted forest floor, whereon The all-seeing sun for ages hath not shone ; Where feeds the moose, and walks the surly bear, And up the tall mast runs the woodpecker.

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