In Portia's Gardens

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B. Whidden, 1897 - Natural history - 232 pages
 

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Page 162 - At last a soft and solemn-breathing sound Rose like a steam of rich distill'd perfumes. And stole upon the air...
Page 6 - tis and ever was my wish and way To let all flowers live freely, and all die (Whene'er their Genius bids their souls depart) Among their kindred in their native place. I never pluck the rose ; the violet's head Hath shaken with my breath upon its bank And not reproached me ; the ever-sacred cup Of the pure lily hath between my hands Felt safe, unsoiled, nor lost one grain of gold.
Page 210 - Th' angelical soft trembling voices made To th' instruments divine respondence meet; The silver sounding instruments did meet With the base murmur of the water's fall: The water's fall with difference discreet, Now soft, now loud, unto the wind did call: The gentle warbling wind low answered to all.
Page 36 - Night incessandy softly wash again, and ever again, this soil'd world; For my enemy is dead, a man divine as myself is dead, I look where he lies white-faced and still in the coffin — I draw near, Bend down and touch lightly with my lips the white face in die coffin.
Page 212 - LOUD is the Vale ! the Voice is up With which she speaks when storms are gone, A mighty Unison of streams ! Of all her Voices, One ! Loud is the Vale ; — this inland Depth In peace is roaring like the Sea ; Yon Star upon the mountain-top Is listening quietly.
Page 5 - One day as I was in the bath, a friend of mine put into my hand a piece of scented clay. I took it, and said to it, ' Art thou musk or ambergris, for I am charmed with thy perfume...
Page 29 - Digressions, incontestably, are the sunshine;— they are the life, the soul of reading;— take them out of this book for instance,— you might as well take the book along with them...
Page 80 - Sommer, being dight In a thin silken cassock coloured greene, That was unlyned all, to be more light ; And on his head a girlond well beseene He wore, from which, as he had chauffed...
Page 89 - Hyblaeis apibus florem depasta salicti 55 saepe levi somnum suadebit inire susurro ', hinc alta sub rupe canet frondator ad auras ; nee tamen interea raucae, tua cura, palumbes, nee gemere aeria cessabit turtur ab ulmo.
Page 205 - At the upper end is an alcove of white marble, shaded with vines and supported by four small Carystian columns. From this semicircular couch, the water, gushing up through several little pipes, as though pressed out by the weight of the persons who recline themselves upon it, falls into a stone cistern underneath, from whence it is received into a fine polished marble basin, so skilfully contrived that it is always full without ever overflowing. When I sup here, this basin serves as a table, the...

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