The windflower and the violet, they perished long ago, And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow; But on the hills the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood, And the yellow sunflower by the brook, in autumn beauty stood, Till fell the frost from the clear cold heaven, as falls the plague on men, And the brightness of their smile was gone, from upland glade and glen.
Going back to Hemingway's work after several years is like going back to a brook where you had often fished and finding the woods as deep and cool as they used to be.Malcolm Cowley
I dreamed a place where I have come to dwell Cold Mountain says it all Monkeys scream, the valley fog is cold My door blends with the color of the peaks I gather leaves and thatch a hut among the pines Dig a pond and lead a trickle from the brook Long ago I left the world behind Eating ferns I pass the years in peacehanshan
In reference to the area of the Jewish state: From the brook of Egypt to the Euphrates.theodor herzl
Oh for a seat in some poetic nook,Just hid with trees and sparkling with a brook!leigh hunt
The moon looksOn many brooks,"The brook can see no moon but this."thomas moore
[I]f knowing is work, exclusively work, then the one who knows, knows only the fruit of his own, subjective activity, and nothing else. There is nothing in his knowing that is not the fruit of his own efforts; there is nothing "received" in it. […]It is the mark of "absolute activity" (which Goethe said "makes one bankrupt, in the end"); the hard quality of not-being-able-to-receive; a stoniness of heart, that will not brook any resistance — as expressed once, most radically, in the following terrifying statement: "Every action makes sense, even criminal acts ... all passivity is senseless."josef pieper
The "great tradition" does not brook even the possibility of libidinal gratification between the pages as an end in itself, and FR Leavis's "eat up your broccoli" approach to fiction emphasises this junkfood/wholefood dichotomy.f. r. leavis
With whisper of her mellowing grain, With treble of brook and bud and tree, Earth joys for ever to sustain The bass eternal of the sea.roden noel
With ordinary men the moments which are united in a close continuity out of the original discrete multiplicity are very few, and the course of their lives resembles a little brook, whereas with the genius it is more like a mighty river into which all the little rivulets flow from afar; that is to say, the universal comprehension of genius vibrates to no experience in which all the individual moments have not been gathered up and stored.otto weininger
The moon looks on many brooks, the brook can see no moon but this.thomas moore
Kill a man's family, and he may brook it, But keep your hands out of his breeches' pocket.lord byron
His thirst he slakes at some pure neighboring brook, Nor seeks for sauce where Appetite stands cook.Charles Churchill
Thine eyes are springs in whose serene And silent waters heaven is seen. Their lashes are the herbs that look On their young figures in the brook.william cullen bryant
A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.Samuel Taylor Coleridge
I wandered by the brook-side, I wandered by the mill: I could not hear the brook flow. The noisy wheel was still.
In a dream I saw Jesus and My God Pan sitting together in the heart of the forest. They laughed at each other's speech, with the brook that ran near them, and the laughter of Jesus was the merrier. And they conversed long.
The blue and bright-eyed floweret of the brook, Hope's gentle gem, the sweet Forget-me-not.Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Beside the brook and on the umbered meadow, Where yellow fern-tufts fleck the faded ground, With folded lids beneath their palmy shadow The gentian nods in dewy slumbers bound.sarah helen whitman
Simplest of blossoms! To mine eye Thou bring'st the summer's painted sky; The May-thorn greening in the nook; The minnows sporting in the brook; The bleat of flocks; the breath of flowers; The song of birds amid the bowers; The crystal of the azure seas; The music of the southern breeze; And, over all, the blessed sun, Telling of halcyon days begun.
What is the voice of strange command Calling you still, as friend calls friend, With love that cannot brook delay, To rise and follow the ways that wend Over the hills and far away.