« PředchozíPokračovat »
And April's in the West wind, and daffodils.
MASEFIELD_The West Wind.
15 The winds with wonder whist, Smoothly the waters kisst.
MILTON—Hymn on the Nativity. St. 5. While rocking winds are piping loud.
MILTON-Il Penseroso. L. 126.
'The winds that never moderation knew,
Perhaps the wind Wails so in winter for the summer's dead, And all sad sounds are nature's funeral cries For what has been and is not.
GEORGE ELIOT— The Spanish Gypsy. Bk. I. But certain winds will make men's temper bad. GEORGE ELIOT—The Spanish Gypsy. Bk. I.
(See also DICKENS) The wind moans, like a long wail from some despairing soul shut out in the awful storm!
W. H. GIBSON—Pastoral Days. Winter. The wind, the wandering wind
Of the golden summer eves Whence is the thrilling magic
Of its tunes amongst the leaves? Oh, is it from the waters,
Or from the long, tall grass?
Through which its breathings pass?
Loud wind, strong wind, sweeping o'er the moun
tains, Fresh wind, free wind, blowing from the sea, Pour forth thy vials like streams from airy moun
tains, Draughts of life to me. D. M. MULOCK-North Wind.
When the stormy winds do blow.
(See also CAMPBELL)
To strive with the winds.
An ill wind that bloweth no man good-
9 Madame, bear in mind That princes govern all things save the wind.
VICTOR HUGOThe Infanta's Rose.
He stayeth his rough wind in the day of the east wind.
Isaiah. XXVII. 8.
11 The wind bloweth where it listeth.
John. III. 8.
LONGFELLOW-A Day of Sunshine. St. 3.
Has grown familiar with your song; I hear it in the opening year,
I listen, and it cheers me long.
LONGFELLOW—Woods in Winter. St. 7. It's a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds'
cries; I never hear the west wind but tears are in my
eyes. For it comes from the west lands, the old brown
Who walketh upon the wings of the wind.
Psalms. CIV. 3.
In a riotous unrest
From the shoulder to the wrist
Of the waving hand he kissed. . JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY—The South Wind
and the Sun. 24 A young man who had been troubling society with impalpable doctrines of a new civilization which he called “the Kingdom of Heaven" had been put out of the way; and I can imagine that believer in material power murmuring as he went homeward, “it will all blow over now." Yes. The wind from the Kingdom of Heaven has blown over the world, and shall blow for centuries yet. GEORGE W. RUSSELL—The Economics of Ire
land. P. 23.
O the wind is a faun in the spring time
Take a straw and throw it up into the air, you may see by that which way the wind is.
JOHN SELDEN—Table Talk. Libels.
WORDSWORTH-Sonnet. Composed while the
author was engaged in writing a tract occasioned by the Convention of Cintra.
What wind blew you hither, Pistol?
(See also HEYWOOD)
Anemone 13 Or, bide thou where the poppy blows With windflowers frail and fair.
BRYANT-The Arctic Lover.
Il blows the wind that profits nobody.
Henry VI. Pt. III. Act II. Sc. 5. L. 55.
4 O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's
being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves
SHELLEY-Ode to the West Wind. Pt. V.
The little windflower, whose just opened eye Is blue as the spring heaven it gazes at.
BRYANT-A Winter Piece. The starry, fragile windflower,
Poised above in airy grace,
Shyly droops her lovely face.
WINE AND SPIRITS (See also DRINKING)
Cease, rude Boreas! blustering railer!
(See also BANCKS) 7
There are, indeed, few merrier spectacles than that of many windmills bickering together in a fresh breeze over a woody country; their halting alacrity of movement, their pleasant business, making bread all day with uncouth gesticulation; their air, gigantically human, as of a creature half alive, put a spirit of romance into the tamest landscape.
STEVENSON—Foreigner at Home.
I hang no ivie out to sell my wine;
(See also LYLY, SYRUS)
Emblem of man, who, after all his moaning
And strain of dire immeasurable strife, Has yet this consolation, all atoning
Life, as a windmill, grinds the bread of Life. DE TABLEY- The Windmill.
Sweet and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea,
Wind of the western sea!
A fresher Gale Begins to wave the wood, and stir the stream, Sweeping with shadowy gust the fields of corn; While the Quail clamors for his running mate.
THOMSON-Seasons. Summer. L. 1,655.
John Barleycorn was a hero bold,
Of noble enterprise,
'Twill make your courage rise, Twill make a man forget his wo;
'Twill heighten all his joy.
Yet true it is as cow chews cud,
bandrie. Description of the Properties of
(See also HEYWOOD) I dropped my pen; and listened to the wind
That sang of trees uptorn and vessels tost;
A mi ght harmony and wholly lost To the general sense of men by chains confined Of business, care, or pleasure, --or resigned
To timely sleep.
So Noah, when he anchor'd safe on
BUTLER-Satire Upon Drunkenness. L. 105. Few things surpass old wine; and they may
preach Who please, the more because they preach in
Dance and Provençal song and sunburnt mirth!
Oh for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene! With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stained mouth.
KEATS-Ode to a Nightingale.
Magnum hoc vitium vino est,
This is the great evil in wine, it first seizes the feet; it is a cunning wrestler. PLAUTUS—Pseudolus. Act V. 1. 5.
It has become quite a common proverb that in wine there is truth. Pliny the
Elder-Natural History. Bk. XIV. Sec. XIV. 15 In proverbium cessit, sapientiam vino adumbrari.
It has passed into a proverb, that wisdom is overshadowed by wine. PLINY the Elder Historia Naturalis. XXIII.
Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging.
Proverbs. XX. 1.
The produce of the vineyards has not failed everywhere, Ovidius. The heavy rains have been productive. Coranus made up a hundred jars by means of the water.
MARTIAL--Epigrams. Bk. IX. Ep. 98.
Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth his colour in the cup; the last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder. Proverbs. XXIII. 31. 32.
18 Wine that maketh glad the heart of man.
Psalms. CIV. 15.
19 We care not for money, riches, nor wealth; Old sack is our money, old sack is our wealth.
THOMAS RANDOLPH—The Praise of Old Sack.
20 Der Wein erfindet nichts, er schwatzt's nur aus.
Wine tells nothing, it only tattles.
Wine kindles wrath.
cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in 't. Coriolanus. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 52.
(See also LOVELACE)
O Roman punch! O potent Curaçoa!
Give me a bowl of wine;
Julius Cæsar. Act IV. Sc. 3. L. 158.
The hop for his profit I thus do exalt,
bandrie. A Lesson When and Where to Plant
And must I wholly banish hence
These red and golden juices,
That pallidest of Muses?
crown thee king of intimate delights, Fireside enjoyments, home-born happiness, And all the comforts that the lowly roof Of undisturb'd Retirement, and the hours Of long uninterrupted evening, know. COWPER—Task. Bk. IV. L. 120.
(See also THOMSON) On a lone winter evening, when the frost Has wrought a silence.
KEATS-On the Grasshopper and Cricket. His breath like silver arrows pierced the air, The naked earth crouched shuddering at his feet, His finger on all flowing waters sweet Forbidding lay-motion nor sound was there: Nature was frozen dead,--and still and slow, A winding sheet fell o'er her body fair, Flaky and soft, from his wide wings of snow. FRANCES ANNE KEMBLE-Winter. L. 9.
Every winter, When the great sun has turned his face away, The earth goes down into a vale of grief, And fasts, and weeps, and shrouds herself in
sables, Leaving her wedding-garlands to decayThen leaps in spring to his returning kisses. CHARLES KINGSLEY — Saint's Tragedy. Act
III. Sc. 1.
O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors:
WILLIAM BLAKE–To Winter.
When now, unsparing as the scourge of war,
Look! the massy trunks
BRYANT-A Winter Piece. L. 66.
Up rose the wild old winter-king,
And shook his beard of snow; “I hear the first young hare-bell ring, 'Tis time for me to go!
Northward o'er the icy rocks,
Northward o'er the sea,
This land's too warm for me!”
POPE-Ode to Winter. L. 85.