In the hexameter rises the fountain's silvery column: In the pentameter aye falling in melody back.
And they brought an Owl, and a useful Cart, And a pound of Rice, and a Cranberry Tart, And a hive of silvery Bees. And they brought a Pig, and some green Jack-daws, And a lovely Monkey with lollipop paws, and forty Bottles of Ring-Bo-Ree, And no end of Stilton Cheese.Edward Lear
The silvery tree opens to an empty sky maybe it is better that I am not your husband.anna akhmatova
In the hexameter rises the fountain's silvery column; In the pentameter aye falling in melody back.Samuel Taylor Coleridge
For ages the army of spirits, once so near, has been receding farther and farther from us, banished by the magic wand of science from hearth and home, from ruined cell and ivied tower, from haunted glade and lonely mere, from the riven murky cloud that belches forth lightning, and from those fairer clouds that pillow the silvery moon or fret with flakes of burning red the golden eve.james frazer
That memorable day died in purple and gold, and just as the last traces of the sunset faded in the west and the star-lilies filled the sky, the full moon looked down over the rim of the valley, and the great rocks, catching the silvery glow, came forth out of the dusky shadows like very spirits.john muir
Whilst breezy waves toss up their silvery spray.
The sunbeams dropped Their gold, and, passing in porch and niche, Softened to shadows, silvery, pale, and dun, As if the very Day paused and grew Eve.edwin arnold
But for you, it shall be forever Spring, And only you shall be forever fearless, And only you shall have white, straight, tireless limbs, And only you, where the water lily swims, Shall walk along pathways, thro' the willows Of your West. You who went West, And only you on silvery twilight pillows Shall take your rest In the soft, sweet glooms Of twilight rooms.
When the swallows homeward fly, When the roses scattered lie, When from neither hill or dale, Chants the silvery nightingale: In these words my bleeding heart Would to thee its grief impart; When I thus thy image lose Can I, ah! can I, e'er know repose?
The tuberose, with her silvery light, That in the gardens of Malay Is call'd the Mistress of the Night, So like a bride, scented and bright; She comes out when the sun's away.thomas moore