No white nor red was ever seen So am'rous as this lovely green. Fond lovers, cruel as their flame, Cut in these trees their mistress' name. Little, alas, they know or heed How far these beauties hers exceed! Fair trees! where s'e'er your barks I wound, No name shall but your own be found.
If I tap that little bell, I can send you to a place where you will never hear the dogs bark.
Down the street the dogs are barking And the day is getting dark. As the night comes in a-falling, The dogs´ll lose their bark And the silent night will shatter From the sounds inside my mind, For I´m one to many mornings And a thousand miles behind. From the crossroads of my doorstep, My eyes they start to fade, As I turn my head back to the room Where my love and I have laid.
A murmuring, fateful, giant voice, out of the earth and sky, Voice of a mighty dying tree in the Redwood forest dense.... [T]he wood-spirits came from their haunts of a thousand years, to join the refrain; But in my soul I plainly heard. Murmuring out of its myriad leaves, Down from its lofty top, rising two hundred feet high, Out of its stalwart trunk and limbs - out of its foot-thick bark, That chant of the seasons and time - chant, not of the past only, but of the future.
Clouds are not spheres, mountains are not cones, coastlines are not circles, and bark is not smooth, nor does lightning travel in a straight line.
Guests are people who come to your home to see you whine at the table, bark loudly, jump on women wearing pantyhose, and do other tricks which you wouldn't think of doing just for the family.
You will never reach your destination if you stop & throw stones at every dog that barks...Better keep biscuits & Move on.
To Helen Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece, And the grandeur that was Rome. Lo, in yon brilliant window-niche How statue-like I see thee stand, The agate lamp within thy hand, Ah! Psyche, from the regions which Are Holy Land!
Anxiety and Ennui are the Scylla and Charybdis on which the bark of human happiness is most often wrecked.
After years of having a dog, you know him. You know the meaning of his snuffs and grunts and barks. Every twitch of the ears is a question or statement, every wag of the tail is an exclamation.
My dog barks some. Mentally you picture my dog, but I have not told you the type of dog which I have. Perhaps you even picture Toto, from The Wizard of Oz. But I can tell you, my dog is always with me. WOOF!
The dogs with the loudest bark are the ones that are most afraid.
How joyously the young sea-mew Lay dreaming on the waters blue, Whereon our little bark had thrown A little shade, the only one; But shadows ever man pursue.
Am I the moss on your bark, then?" Ani asked. Enna grabbed her around the waist and shook her affectionately. "You're the mossiest girl I know.
My bark, once struck by the fury of the storm, dreads again to approach the place of danger.
I hope the dogs don't bark tonight. I always think it's mine
Luke rose to his feet. "I'm taking five minutes for some air. I'll be back. " He felt them watching him as he made his way to the front doorsall of them, even Amatis. Senhor Monteverde whispered something to his wife in Portuguese; Luke caught "lobo", the word for "wolf", in the stream of words. They probably think I'm going outside to run in circles and bark at the moon.
An animal on a leash is not tamed by the owner. The owner is extending himself through the leash to that part of his personality which is pure dog, that part of him which just wants to eat, sleep, bark, hump chairs, wet the floor in joy, and drink out of a toilet bowl.
The silver-leaved birch retains in its old age a soft bark; there are some such men.
Moss grows where nothing else can grow. It grows on bricks. It grows on tree bark and roofing slate. It grows in the Arctic Circle and in the balmiest tropics; it also grows on the fur of sloths, on the backs of snails, on decaying human bones. ... It is a resurrection engine. A single clump of mosses can lie dormant and dry for forty years at a stretch, and then vault back again into life with a mere soaking of water.
He barks out a laugh. "My little rebel.
We were not for underestimating magic - a life-conductor like the sap between the tree-stem and the bark. We know that it keeps dullness out of religion and poetry. It is probable that without it we might die.
I know not that there is anything in nature more soothing to the mind than the contemplation of the moon, sailing, like some planetary bark, amidst a sea of bright azure. The subject is certainly hackneyed; the moon has been sung by poet and poetaster. Is there any marvel that it should be so?
Oh! welcome to the wearied Earth The Sabbath resting comes, Gathering the sons of toil and care Back to their peaceful homes; And, like a portal to the skies, Opens the House of God, Where all who seek may come and learn The way the Saviour trod. But holier to the wanderer seems The Sabbath on the deep, When on, and on, in ceaseless course, The toiling bark must keep, And not a trace of man appears Amid the wilderness Of waters--then it comes like dove Direct from heaven to bless.
Tis reason's part To govern and to guard the heart, To lull the wayward soul to rest, When hopes and fears distract the breast; Reason may calm this doubtful strife, And steer thy bark through various life.
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