Neighbors with Wings and Fins, and Some Others: For Young PeopleD. Appleton and Comapny, 1886 - Počet stran: 229 |
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Další vydání - Zobrazit všechny
Neighbors with Wings and Fins: And Some Others, for Young People James Johonnot Úplné zobrazení - 1888 |
Neighbors with Wings and Fins, and Some Others: For Young People James Johonnot Úplné zobrazení - 1885 |
Běžně se vyskytující výrazy a sousloví
Argus pheasant barn owl beak beautiful bee-eater bill bird Black Spanish blue blue-fish bobolink body breast bright brood brown bushes called catch CHAPTER chuck-will's-widow claws cockatoo color cow-bird creatures crest crow dive duck eagle enemies eyes farm-yard feathers feet fish fisherman flies flight flock friends golden grass grebe ground grouse hatched hawk head heron hole hook hornbill horned owl humming-bird insects ivory-billed woodpecker JAMES JOHONNOT kingfisher lark legs limb Little Grebe live look male mate mother neck neighbor nest night ostrich parrot peacock pelican perch pigeons pleasant plumage prey robin ruffed grouse sacred ibis sandpiper scratchers scratching secretary-bird sharp shining sings sitting soft song South sparrow swallows sweet swimming tail throat titmouse toes tree turkey twig voice watch whip-poor-will white eggs wild wings wood woodpecker worms wren young
Oblíbené pasáže
Strana 70 - Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken — The ice was all between. The ice was here, the ice was there, The ice was all around: It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, Like noises in a swound!
Strana 164 - YE banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair; How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary, fu' o
Strana 101 - HE clasps the crag with crooked hands; Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ring'd with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls; He watches from his mountain walls, And like a thunderbolt he falls.
Strana 49 - I watch him as he skims along, Uttering his sweet and mournful cry; He starts not at my fitful song, Or flash of fluttering drapery; He has no thought of any wrong; He scans me with a fearless eye. Stanch friends are we, well tried and strong, The little sandpiper and I. Comrade, where wilt thou be to-night When the loosed storm breaks furiously ? My driftwood fire will burn so bright! To what warm shelter canst thou fly ? I do not fear for thee, though wroth The tempest rushes through the sky; For...
Strana 48 - Across the narrow beach we flit, One little sandpiper and I ; And fast I gather, bit by bit, The scattered driftwood bleached and dry. The wild waves reach their hands for it, The wild wind raves, the tide runs high, As up and down the beach we flit, — One little sandpiper and I. Above our heads the sullen clouds Scud black and swift across the sky ; Like silent ghosts in misty shrouds Stand out the white light-houses high. Almost as far as eye can reach I see the close-reefed vessels fly, As fast...
Strana 91 - Tis a bird I love, with its brooding note, And the trembling throb in its mottled throat; There's a human look in its swelling breast, And the gentle curve of its lowly crest; And I often stop with the fear I feel— He runs so close to the rapid wheel. Whatever is rung on that noisy bell — Chime of the hour or funeral knell — The dove in the belfry must hear it well. When the tongue swings out to the midnight moon — When the sexton cheerily rings for noon — When the clock strikes clear at...
Strana 136 - To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green; And thou wert still a hope, a love; Still longed for, never seen.
Strana 213 - No life, my honest Scholar, no life so happy and so pleasant as the life of a well-governed Angler ; for when the lawyer is swallowe'd up with business, and the statesman is preventing or contriving plots, then we sit on cowslip banks, hear the birds sing, and possess ourselves in as much quietness as these silent silver streams, which we now see glide so quietly by us.
Strana 135 - Thrice welcome, darling of the spring! Even yet thou art to me No bird, but an invisible thing, A voice, a mystery...
Strana 135 - O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird, Or but a wandering Voice? While I am lying on the grass Thy twofold shout I hear, From hill to hill it seems to pass, At once far off, and near. Though babbling only to the Vale, Of sunshine and of flowers, Thou bringest unto me a tale Of visionary hours. Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring! Even yet thou art to me No bird...