"Brooklet" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... told, Dreamed homesick 'mid the harvest fields of old, The Dusk goes gleaning color and perfume From Bible slopes of heaven, that illume Her pensive beauty deep in shadows stoled. Hushed is the forest; and blue vale and hill Are still, save for the brooklet, sleepily Stumbling the stone with one foam-fluttering foot: Save for the note of one far whippoorwill, And in my heart her name,—like some sweet bee Within a rose,—blowing ...
— Poems • Madison Cawein
... From the perfume of the growing grasses waving over honey-laden clover and laughing veronica, hiding the greenfinches, baffling the bee. From rose-loved hedges, woodbine, and cornflower azure-blue, where yellowing wheat-stalks crowd up under the shadow of green firs. All the devious brooklet's sweetness where the iris stays the sunlight; all the wild woods hold the beauty; all the broad hill's thyme and freedom: thrice a hundred years repeated. A hundred years of cowslips, blue-bells, violets; purple spring and golden autumn; sunshine, ...
— The Open Air • Richard Jefferies
... Spring Spring The Child Asleep Death of Archbishop Turpin The Blind Girl of Castel-Cuille A Christmas Carol Consolation To Cardinal Richelieu The Angel and the Child On the Terrace of the Aigalades To my Brooklet Barreges Will ever the dear days come back again? At La Chaudeau A Quiet Life The Wine of Jurancon Friar Lubin Rondel My Secret From the Italian. The Celestial Pilot The Terrestrial Paradise Beatrice To Italy Seven Sonnets and a Canzone I. The Artist II. Fire. III. Youth and ...
— The Complete Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow • Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
... friendship flourish like the flowers in the garden-bed, And a tall young stately maiden is in little Bessie's stead. When I look at this stately maiden I think of the bright pink moss, I think of a foaming brooklet with a bridge of stones across; I think of a waste of heather, a collie pup, and a cat, In the arms of a rosy baby with a blue straw sun shade hat. When I look at this stately maiden I cannot a smile suppress. While I ...
— Fun And Frolic • Various
... to the brooklet, Her face she knew was fair, And the face of flowing water Mirrored her ...
— Debris - Selections from Poems • Madge Morris
... over the Axe estuary for hundreds of years. Turning up from the main street is a Devonshire lane eight feet wide or thereabouts. It ascends to a farm on the hillside, and its steep high banks are covered with ferns and primroses. A tiny brooklet twitters down by its side. At the top of the down is a line of old hawthorns blown slantingly by south-west storms into a close, solid mass of shoots and prickles. They are dwarfed in their struggle, but have thick trunks, many of them covered ...
— More Pages from a Journal • Mark Rutherford
... mien and slight of frame. Like a laughing brook she skipped to and fro along the strand; He was grave, like nodding fern-leaf, gently by the breezes fanned, Which in silence, Pensive silence, Grows upon the brooklet's sand, ...
— Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science - April, 1873, Vol. XI, No. 25. • Various
... trees of the Palace gardens. Thousands of lights glittered through the foliage. The air was burdened with perfume. High above the sombre umbrage rose slender snowy spires, around which the moonbeams lingered lovingly. He left the little skiff and trod the terraced ascent. A meandering brooklet, tributary of the larger stream, was spanned by fairy-like bridges. He hesitated among the intersecting ways, mazy, enchanting, and flower-bordered. The living air was full of subdued sound. Bubbling ...
— Atma - A Romance • Caroline Augusta Frazer
... the pasture was gay as a garden, And it glowed with a flowery red; But the meadows had never a grass-blade, And the brooklet—it slept in its bed; ...
— St. Nicholas, Vol. 5, No. 4, February 1878 • Various
... forth into the summer woods. The eye takes in the charming prospect,—the trees dressed in beautiful green; the "grassy carpet," parted ever and anon by a gliding, gurgling brooklet; the wild flower peeping up near the feet; a landscape of even surface, or at times pleasingly undulated. The atmosphere is freighted with a delightful fragrance; and from rustling bough, from warbling bird, from rippling brook, and from the joyous ...
— Music and Some Highly Musical People • James M. Trotter
... pasture was gay as a garden, And it glowed with a flowery red; But the meadows had never a grass blade, And the brooklet—it slept in its bed: ...
— McGuffey's Third Eclectic Reader • William Holmes McGuffey
... with daintiest noiselessness, I moved to a thread of moss that from the glade passed into the thicket, and along its winding way I stepped, in the direction of the sound. Now my ears caught the purling noise of a brooklet, and following the moss-path, I was led into a mass of bush only two or three feet higher than my head. Through this, prowling like a stealthy cat, I wheedled my painful way, emerged upon a strip of open long-grass, and now was faced, three yards before me, by a ...
— The Purple Cloud • M.P. Shiel
... eight to examine the river Brent at Hendon; a mere brooklet, running in most dainty sinuosity under overshadowing oaks and all manner of leafiness. Many beauties, and hard to choose amongst, for I had determined to make a little picture of it. However, Nature, that at first sight appears so lovely, ...
— The Mind of the Artist - Thoughts and Sayings of Painters and Sculptors on Their Art • Various
... Not a brooklet floweth Onward to the sea, Not a sunbeam gloweth On its bosom free, Not a seed unfoldeth To the glorious air, But our Father holdeth It within ...
— Poems with Power to Strengthen the Soul • Various
... the lake, with its smooth extent of deep blue, with satin or moir sheen according as it was touched by the gentle breeze, - and behind were the mountains with thousands of primulas, the purple erica, and the pink and white Christmas rose. The brooklet was still there - and the old pillared portico, where the stone showed from under the crumbling stucco and the roses had pushed their way through the stone paving and entwined ...
— The Bride of Dreams • Frederik van Eeden
... dreams, in the silence are hurrying by On the brooklet of Thought where I let them flow, And the "lilies nod to the sound of the stream" As I sail through the realms of the ...
— Threads of Grey and Gold • Myrtle Reed
... Ford might gaze into the thickening summer dusk and wipe her spectacles; but her companion hummed her old ballad-ends with an unbroken voice. She no more ceased to smile under evil tidings than the brooklet ceases to ripple beneath the projected shadow of the roadside willow. The self-given promises of that tearful night of parting were forgotten. Vigilance had no place in Lizzie's scheme of heavenly idleness. The idea ...
— The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 15, No. 89, March, 1865 • Various
... time. We want a religion that will go all through our life; and if there is anything in our life that will not stand its presence, the sooner we get rid of that element the better. A mountain road has generally a living brooklet leaping and flashing by the side of it. So our lives will be dusty and dead and cold and poor and prosaic unless that river runs along by the roadside and makes music for us as it flows. Take your religion wherever ...
— Expositions Of Holy Scripture - Volume I: St. Luke, Chaps. I to XII • Alexander Maclaren
... cart-tracks perfect in the mire, The wayside smoke, perchance, the dwarfish huts, And ramblers' donkey drinking from the ruts:— Long ere you trace how deviously it leads, Back from man's chimneys and the bleating meads To the woodland shadow, to the silvan hush, When but the brooklet chuckles in the brush— Back from the sun and bustle of the vale To where the great voice of the nightingale Fills all the forest like a single room, And all the banks smell of the golden broom; So wander ...
— The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition Vol. 14 (of 25) • Robert Louis Stevenson
... brooklet wends its happy way Adown a rocky path across the plain. And goes a-galloping along in rain. In drought he stops and waits a lucky day, When clouds roll up and men and women pray, And withered is the corn and grasses ...
— Some Broken Twigs • Clara M. Beede
... joyous footsteps Once perchance were wont to pass, Ran a little streamlet making One "blue fold in the dark grass;" And where, from its hidden fountain, Clear and bright the brooklet burst Two had crawled, and each was bending O'er ...
— War Poetry of the South • Various
... grey today for you Rose-garlanded? The brooklet seeks you, wind, cloud, with longing thread And thrust themselves yet higher to the blue, To spy for you from farthest ...
— Beyond Good and Evil • Friedrich Nietzsche
... brown meadow over, And found not even a leaf of clover; Nor where the sod was chill and wet Could she spy one tint of violet; But where the brooklet ran A noisy swollen billow, She picked in her little hand ...
— On the Tree Top • Clara Doty Bates
... in Malvern Abbey, and, whilst his brethren feasted, climbed the gentle slope of the Worcestershire hills, and drank in the beauties of the varied landscape at his feet. There, on a May morning, as he rested under a bank by the side of a brooklet, and was lulled to sleep by the murmuring of the water, he dreamed those dreams that set waking people to thinking, and gave a powerful impetus to the moral and social ...
— The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 18, No. 109, November, 1866 • Various
... land." The snow-bird that tarried through [25] the storm, now chirps to the breeze; the cuckoo sounds her invisible lute, calling the feathered tribe back to their summer homes. Old robin, though stricken to the heart with winter's snow, prophesies of fair earth and sunny skies. The brooklet sings melting murmurs to ...
— Miscellaneous Writings, 1883-1896 • Mary Baker Eddy
... fresh moss-odors filled the grove With a strange sweetness, the dark hemlock boughs Moved soft, as though they heard the brooklet rouse To its spring soul, and whisper low of love. The white-robed birches stood unbendingly Like royal maids, in ...
— A Woman's Love Letters • Sophie M. Almon-Hensley
... together, Then leaped the first fence neck and neck; On, on again, riding like mad, sir, Jumping all without hinder or check. In this, the last field 'fore the finish, You could save half a minute or more By leaping the stone wall and brooklet; But never, sir, never before, Had anyone ever attempted That leap; it was madness, but, sir, My young mistress knew that Delaunay Was too great a coward and cur To follow; and, what's more, she knew, sir, That she must be first in the race— For the sake of the Hislop honour, ...
— Successful Recitations • Various
... grounds upon which the public buildings in Lancaster now stand, but this he soon parted with, and took up his abode a mile to the south west, on the sunny slope of George Hill, where, beside a little brooklet of pure cool water, which then doubtless came rollicking down over its gravelly bed with twice the flow it has to-day, there had been built, two years at least before, the trucking house of Symonds & King. This trading post was the extreme outpost of civilization; ...
— Bay State Monthly, Vol. II. No. 5, February, 1885 - A Massachusetts Magazine • Various
... projecting rocks and verdant lawns, and deep channels of rugged stone, over which a foaming torrent forces its way in the rainy season, and is succeeded in dry weather by a sparkling rivulet, which trickles down to swell a little brooklet at the foot of the hill, as it winds its way to the neighbouring lake. These may be seen, and the patches of heather, and the patient colley watching for a signal to collect the scattered flock, dotted, as it appears to be, over the almost inaccessible heights. At ...
— Anecdotes of Dogs • Edward Jesse
... was yet as playful as a kitten. I was twice her age—just ten—at this period; and a sort of instinct led me to adopt the little creature, in place of poor Edgar, in the friendship of my boyish heart. I drew her in her little wagon—carried her over the brooklet—constructed her tiny playthings—and in consideration of my usefulness, in most generally keeping her in the best of humors, her mother was not unwilling that I should be her frequent playmate. Nay, at such times she could spare a gentle word even to me, as one throws a bone to the dog, ...
— Confession • W. Gilmore Simms
... eyes. The pathway leading to his hut Winds differently,—the gate is shut. The ruin on the right that stood. Lies on the left, and nigh the wood; The paddock fenced with wall of stone, Wcll-stock'd with kine, a mile hath flown, The sheepfold and the herd are gone. Through channels new the brooklet rushes, Its ancient course conceal'd by bushes. Where the hollow was, a mound Rises from the upheaved ground. Doubting, shouting with surprise, How the fool stares, and rubs his eyes! All's so changed, the simple elf Fancies he is changed himself! Ho! ho! 'tis a merry sight The ...
— The Lancashire Witches - A Romance of Pendle Forest • William Harrison Ainsworth
... man. Hoelderlin describes love as a heavenly plant,[160] youth as the springtime of the heart,[161] tears as the dew of love;[162] Lenau, on the other hand, characterizes rain as the tears of heaven, for him the woods are glad,[163] the brooklet weeps,[164] the air is idle, the buds and blossoms listen,[165] the forest in its autumn foliage is "herbstlich geroetet, so wie ein Kranker, der sich neigt zum Sterben, wenn fluechtig noch sich seine Wangen faerben."[166] A remarkable simile, and ...
— Types of Weltschmerz in German Poetry • Wilhelm Alfred Braun
... up, attract, captivate, charm; —se grow furious, rush headlong, give way to passion. arrebolar redden. arrogancia f. arrogance. arrojar throw, cast, cast off. arrojo m. daring, fearlessness. arrostrar face, fight, encounter. arroyuelo m. little brook, brooklet. arruinado, -a ruinous, crumbling. arrullar lull. arrullo m. lullaby. as m. ace. asaz adv. enough, sufficiently, very. ascender ascend, rise. as adv. so, thus. Asia f. Asia. asiento m. seat. asilo ...
— El Estudiante de Salamanca and Other Selections • George Tyler Northup
... pipe-bowl glowing and blackening in time to his pulling at it, smoked on alone in the dusk. In the nibbling, iterative way of the old, he started a kind of reflection; but it was as if a harmattan had blown along the usual courses of his thought, drying up his little brooklet of recollection and withering the old aquatic star-flowers that grew along its banks. His mind, in its meandering among old images, groped, paused, fell pensive. His head sank lower between his shoulders, and the shoulders ...
— The Best Short Stories of 1919 - and the Yearbook of the American Short Story • Various
... forward, but almost fell into the brooklet. The bridge was gone. Cornelia had started up, and tried to cover her arms and shake her tunic over her feet. Her cheeks were all smiles and blushes. But Drusus's situation was both pathetic and ludicrous. He had his fiancee almost in his arms, and yet the stream ...
— A Friend of Caesar - A Tale of the Fall of the Roman Republic. Time, 50-47 B.C. • William Stearns Davis
... talks, I am as one who by a brooklet walks, Some sweet-tongued brooklet, which the whole long day, Holds converse with the birds along the way. When ...
— Yesterdays • Ella Wheeler Wilcox
... hard packed road. Here he noted the shimmering veil of ice over some brooklet waterfall in a cleft of the hill side. There the precise punctures of a rabbit track dotted the level snow of the woods. Beyond a herd of cattle standing placidly around a straw-stack blew clouds of vapor from their steaming nostrils. ...
— The Secret of the Storm Country • Grace Miller White
... sun was tempered by a breeze from the east, which threw across the fields and woods the shadows of the white fleecy clouds. The young man, pale and agitated, strode with feverish haste over the short-cropped grass, while the little brooklet at his side seemed to murmur a flute-like, soothing accompaniment to the tumultuous beatings of his heart. He was both elated and depressed at the prospect of submitting his already torn and lacerated feelings to so severe a trial. The thought of beholding Reine again, ...
— A Woodland Queen, Complete • Andre Theuriet |
