"Furrow" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... we had already too much, and a great deal more than we were able to retain. Could that be called conquering it? The long and straight furrow which we had traced with so much difficulty from Kowno, across sands and ashes, would it not close behind us, like that of a vessel on an immense ocean! A few peasants, badly armed, might easily efface ...
— History of the Expedition to Russia - Undertaken by the Emperor Napoleon in the Year 1812 • Count Philip de Segur
... side Of Ajax son of Telamon a step, 850 But as in some deep fallow two black steers Labor combined, dragging the ponderous plow, The briny sweat around their rooted horns Oozes profuse; they, parted as they toil Along the furrow, by the yoke alone, 855 Cleave to its bottom sheer the stubborn glebe, So, side by side, they, persevering fought.[14] The son of Telamon a people led Numerous and bold, who, when his bulky limbs Fail'd overlabor'd, eased him of his shield. 860 Not so ...
— The Iliad of Homer - Translated into English Blank Verse • Homer
... summit and the hoary sides 310 Of Atlas hangs, pois'd on whose shoulders rest The Heav'ns: his head eternal storms infest, Crown'd with dark pines, inwrap'd with gloomy clouds; Primeval snow his shaggy bosom shrouds, Furrow'd with streams that down his chin descend, 315 And chains of ice from his broad beard that pend. Here light the God—Balanc'd his equal wings, And darting forward to the ocean flings. Through misty air as nearer earth he drew, Cutting the winds and whirling sands, ...
— The Fourth Book of Virgil's Aeneid and the Ninth Book of Voltaire's Henriad • Virgil and Voltaire
... the furrow, Tim." The man who was loading prepared himself for the shock, and the waggon safely jolted over the furrow, and on between the wakes of light-brown hay, crackling to the touch as if it would catch fire in the brilliant sunshine. The ...
— The Toilers of the Field • Richard Jefferies
... bareheaded through the mist, evidently feeling it a physical relief to let the chill, moist air beat freely on brow and temples. Flaxman could not help watching him occasionally—the forehead with its deep vertical furrow, the rugged face, stamped and lined everywhere by travail of mind and body, and the nobility of the large grizzled head. In the voluminous cloak—of an antiquity against which Anne protested in vain—which was his favourite garb on wet days, he might have been a friar of the early time, bound ...
— The Case of Richard Meynell • Mrs. Humphry Ward
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