I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
The former summer capital of the British in India, and the present capital of Himachal Pradesh, Shimla has been blessed with all the natural bounties which one can think of. It has got a scenic location, it is surrounded by green hills with snow capped peaks . The spectacular cool hills accompanied by the structures made during the colonial era creates an aura which is very different from other hills.History, in Welcome to Shimla District, National informatics center, Himachal Pradesh. 31 March 2008.
Oh there is blessing in this gentle breeze, Avisitant that while it fans my cheek Doth seem half conscious of the joy it brings From the green fields, and from yon azure sky. Whate'er its mission, the soft breeze can come To none more grateful than to me; escaped From the vast city, where I long had pined A discontented sojourner: now free, Free as a bird to settle where I will.william wordsworth
Rebellion against technology and civilization is real rebellion, a real attack on the values of the existing system. But the green anarchists, anarcho-primitivists, and so forth (The "GA Movement") have fallen under such heavy influence from the left that their rebellion against civilization has to great extent been neutralized. Instead of rebelling against the values of civilization, they have adopted many civilized values themselves and have constructed an imaginary picture of primitive societies that embodies these civilized values.theodore kaczynski
There was a time in this fair land when the railroad did not run And the wild majestic mountains stood alone against the sun Long before the white man and long before the wheel When the green dark forest was too silent to be real... Oh! The song of the future has been sung All the battles have been won On the mountain tops we stand All the world at our command We have opened up the soil with our teardrops and our toilgordon lightfoot
Beautiful Soup, so rich and green, Waiting in a hot tureen! Who for such dainties would not stoop? Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!1865 Song of the Mock Turtle. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, ch.10.
If you remove the English army tomorrow and hoist the green flag over Dublin Castle, unless you set about the organization of the Socialist Republic your efforts would be in vain. England would still rule you. She would rule you through her capitalists, through her landlords, through her financiers, through the whole array of commercial and individualist institutions she has planted in this country and watered with the tears of our mothers and the blood of our martyrs.james connolly
Father calls me William, sister calls me Will,Mother calls me Willie, but the fellers call me Bill!Mighty glad I ain't a girl—ruther be a boy,Without them sashes, curls, an' things that 's worn by Fauntleroy!Love to chawnk green apples an' go swimmin' in the lake—Hate to take the castor-ile they give for bellyache!'Most all the time, the whole year round, there ain't no flies on me,But jest 'fore Christmas I'm as good as I kin be!Eugene Field
Today I sat before the cliff Until the mist and rainbows disappeared I followed the emerald stream Explored a thousand tiers of green cliffs In the morning my spirit rests among white clouds At night a bright moon floats in the sky I am free of the busy world There is not a doubt in my heart or a worry to disturb my mindhan shan
The higher the trail the steeper it grows Ten thousand tiers of dangerous cliffs The stone bridge is slippery with green moss Cloud after cloud keeps flying by Waterfalls hang like ribbons of silk The moon shines down on the bright pool I climb the highest peak once more To wait where the lone crane flieshan shan
Yes, sing the song of the orange-tree, With its leaves of velvet green: With its luscious fruit of sunset hue, The fairest that ever were seen; The grape may have its bacchanal verse, To praise the fig we are free; But homage I pay to the queen of all, The glorious orange-tree.J. K. Hoyt, The Orange-Tree.
Who, of men, can tell That flowers would bloom, or that green fruit would swell To melting pulp, that fish would have bright mail, The earth its dower of river, wood, and vale, The meadows runnels, runnels pebble-stones, The seed its harvest, or the lute its tones, Tones ravishment, or ravishment its sweet, If human souls did never kiss and greet?john keats
True, more than a half of the green graves in the Grafton cemetery are marked "Unknown," and sometimes it occurs that one thinks of the contradiction involved in "honoring the memory" of him of whom no memory remains to honor; but the attempt seems to do no great harm to the living, even to the logical.ambrose bierce
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