Merry it is in the good greenwood, When the mavis and merle are singing, When the deer sweeps by, and the hounds are in cry, And the hunter's horn is ringing.
...for which I heartily thank you as she serveth me to great purpose. For she maketh my hunting very certain and speedy. She hath never failed me, for almost every day this week but brought me in the right way to a deer. And this last week she brought me to a stag which myself had stricken with my bow, being forced to the soil where, with the help of a greater water spaniel that forced him out of the water, your good brach helped to pluck him down.
cecil, william, 1st baron burghley(Monte) Johnson recalled that: "Wilt had such unbelievable endurance and speed that, if he took off running, there wasn't any chance that anybody would keep up with him. He glided around the track and had the grace of a deer. I said to the coach, 'It might look like it helps us to chase him, but it may kill us because you can't catch someone who runs that fast.' After practice, he was the only one who wasn't tired. I never saw him tired."
wilt chamberlainI was a stricken deer that left the herd long since.
william cowperIf we recognise that every ecosystem can also be viewed as a food web, we can think of it as a circular, interlacing nexus of plant animal relationships (rather than a stratified pyramid with man at the apex)... Each species, be it a form of bacteria or deer, is knitted together in a network of interdependence, however indirect the links may be.
murray bookchinCold Mountain is hidden in white clouds It’s peaceful to be cut off from the busy world I use dry grass for cushions in my mountain home My only light is the round moon My bed is the rock beside the green pool Tigers and deer are my companions I delight in this happy peaceful life Forever beyond the world of men
han shanSome paintings become famous because, being durable, they are viewed by successive generations, in each of which are likely to be found a few appreciative eyes. I know a painting so evanescent that it is seldom viewed at all, except by some wandering deer. It is a river who wields the brush, and it is the same river who, before I can bring my friends to view his work, erases it forever.
aldo leopoldBrambles, in particular, protect and nourish young fruit trees, and on farms bramble clumps (blackberry or one of its related cultivars) can be used to exclude deer and cattle from newly set trees. As the trees (apple, quince, plum, citrus, fig) age, and the brambles are shaded out, hoofed animals come to eat fallen fruit, and the mature trees (7 plus years old) are sufficiently hardy to withstand browsing. Our forest ancestors may well have followed some such sequences for orchard evolution, assisted by indigenous birds and mammals.
bill mollisonThe pretty Lark, climbing the Welkin cleer, Chaunts with a cheer, Heer peer I neer my deer; Then stooping thence (seeming her fall to rew) Adieu (she saith) adieu, deer deer, adieu.
guillaume de salluste du bartasCold Mountain is hidden in white clouds It’s peaceful to be cut off from the busy world I use dry grass for cushions in my mountain home My only light is the round moon My bed is the rock beside the green pool Tigers and deer are my companions I delight in this happy peaceful life Forever beyond the world of men
Earlier, we used to work with ivory and deer horn but now we do inlay work with plastic and different naturally coloured wood, which makes the piece very colourful.
My heart's in the Highlands , my heart is not here; My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer.
Your sport, my Lord, I cannot take, For I must go and hunt a lake; And while you chase the flying deer, I must fly off to Windermere. Instead of hallooing to a fox, I must catch echoes from the rocks; With curious eye and active scent, I on the Picturesque am bent.
For she maketh my hunting very certain and speedy. She hath never failed me, for almost every day this week but brought me in the right way to a deer. And this last week she brought me to a stag which myself had stricken with my bow, being forced to the soil where, with the help of a greater water spaniel that forced him out of the water, your good brach helped to pluck him down.
There is a road that turning always Cuts off the country of Again. Archers stand there on every side And as it runs time's deer is slain And lies where it has lain.
Because a long stay in the same place does not add to one’s own happiness and might disturb the serene ascetics ; the deer are eaten up and the plants and herbs depleted.
Poor deer, quoth he, thou makest a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had too much.
The deer don't dine When a Wolf's about, And the Porcupine Sticks his quill-points out.
arthur guiterman