Vick's Monthly Magazine ..., Volume 8

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J. Vick., 1885 - Floriculture

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Page 188 - Hark ! where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge Leans to the field and scatters on the clover Blossoms and dewdrops — at the bent spray's edge— That's the wise thrush ; he sings each song twice over, Lest you should think he never could recapture The first fine careless rapture...
Page 156 - OH, TO BE in England Now that April's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England - now...
Page 32 - A Quarterly Devoted to the Historical and Scientific Discussion of the Botany, Pharmacy, Chemistry and Therapeutics of the Medicinal Plants of North America — their Constituents, Products and Sophistications.
Page 85 - VIII) is from one and a half to two and a half inches in length, and from one-fourth to three fourths of an inch in diameter.
Page 131 - I shall never forget the delight I felt on first seeing a May-pole. It was on the banks of the Dee, close by the picturesque old bridge that stretches across the river from the quaint little city of Chester. I had already been carried back into former days by the antiquities of that venerable place; the examination of which is equal to turning over the pages of a black-letter volume or gazing on the pictures in Froissart.
Page 355 - against the feast of Christmas every man's house, as also their parish churches, were decked with holme, ivy, bayes, and whatsoever the season of the year afforded to be green.
Page 244 - The full Rose waxed in the warm June air, And she spread and spread, till her heart lay bare, And she laughed once more as 'she heard his tread, " He is older now. He will soon be dead...
Page 52 - Then," said the rose, with deepen'd glow, " On me another grace bestow :" The spirit paused, in silent thought, — What grace was there that flower had not ? 'Twas but a moment — o'er the rose A veil of moss the angel throws, And robed in nature's simplest weed, Could there a flower that rose exceed ? INVOCATION TO NIGHT.
Page 52 - To bathe young buds in dews from heaven ; Awaking from his light repose, The angel whispered to the rose : ' O fondest object of my care, Still fairest found where all are fair, For the sweet shade thou 'st given to me, Ask what thou wilt, 'tis granted thee.
Page 52 - tis given To bathe young buds in dews of heaven ; — Awaking from his light repose, The Angel whispered to the rose ;— " O fondest object of my care, Still fairest found, where all are fair ; For the sweet shade thou giv'st to me, Ask what thou wilt 'tis granted thee!" " Then said the rose, with deepened glow, On me another grace bestow...

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