Meadows Quotes - 2
More Meadows Quotes
Up from the meadows rich with corn, Clear in the cool September morn.
john greenleaf whittier— 1863 'Barbara Frietchie', opening lines.
Lovely the woods, waters, meadows, combes, vales, All the air things wear that build this world of Wales.
gerard manley hopkins— In the Valley of the Elwy, lines 9-10
Cincinnatus was ploughing his four jugera of land upon the Vaticanian Hill, the same that are still known as the Quintian meadows, when the messenger brought him the dictatorship, finding him, the tradition says, stripped to the work.
— Book XVIII, sec. 20. (Naturalis Historia)
How sweet and beautifull is every place & I visit my old Haunts with renewed delight... nothing can exceed the beautiful green of the meadows which are beginning to fill with butter Cups — & various flowers — the birds are singing from morning trill night but most of all the Sky larks — How delightfull is the Country.
john constable— Letter to his wife, Maria (20 April 1821); as quoted in Leslie Parris and Ian Fleming-Williams, Constable (Tate Gallery Publications, London, 1993), p. 28
Times are changed with him who marries; there are no more by-path meadows, where you may innocently linger, but the road lies long and straight and dusty to the grave. Idleness, which is often becoming and even wise in the bachelor, begins to wear a different aspect when you have a wife to support.
Robert Louis Stevenson— Virginibus Puerisque, Ch. 2.
Cincinnatus was ploughing his four jugera of land upon the Vaticanian Hill, the same that are still known as the Quintian meadows, when the messenger brought him the dictatorship, finding him, the tradition says, stripped to the work.
pliny the elder— Book XVIII, sec. 20.
The great elm-trees in the gold-green meadows were fast asleep above, and the cows fast asleep beneath them; nay, the few clouds which were about were fast asleep likewise, and so tired that they had lain down on the earth to rest, in long white flakes and bars, among the stems of the elm-trees, and along the tops of the alders by the stream.
Charles Kingsley— 1863 The Water Babies, ch.1.
