"Deliciousness" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... yearning of thine eyes From lichened banks of peace, sad mysteries Of dust fallen-in where passed the flitting breath: Turn thy sick thoughts from him that slumbereth In mouldered linen to the living skies, The sun's bright-clouded principalities, The salt deliciousness the sea-breeze hath! ...
— Collected Poems 1901-1918 in Two Volumes - Volume I. • Walter de la Mare
... previous, Pen awoke at an early hour. She lay quiet for a moment, sensing to the full the deliciousness of being cosily submerged in soft, warm coverings that protected her from the crisp, keen hill-winds that were ...
— Penny of Top Hill Trail • Belle Kanaris Maniates
... harmony ascend In thrilling cadence to the gates of heaven, Making the air about them sweet with joy, As summer's breath with floral incense fumes; And every echo learns the words of love, And wonders at its sweet deliciousness, Repeating o'er and o'er the honied tones Till they infuse into their ...
— Eidolon - The Course of a Soul and Other Poems • Walter R. Cassels
... changes to a stately Palace, set out with all manner of deliciousness; Soft Musick, Tables spred with all dainties. Comus appears with his rabble, and the Lady set in an inchanted Chair, to whom he offers his Glass, which she puts by, and ...
— The Poetical Works of John Milton • John Milton
... virgin purity of the orange-blossom, the voluptuous perfume yearningly foretells the luscious, perfect fruit, and the blush of the peach-bloom shows the flower coyly but triumphantly conscious that it will one day ripen into mouth-watering deliciousness,—so even then there were hints and prophecies in Margaret's budding womanliness that the time was approaching when she would not only awaken love but would herself know the ...
— Romance of Roman Villas - (The Renaissance) • Elizabeth W. (Elizbeth Williams) Champney
... is close, and there Darkness is cold and strange and bare; And the secret deeps are whisperless; And rhythm is all deliciousness; And joy is in the throbbing tide, Whose intricate fingers beat and glide In felt bewildering harmonies Of trembling touch; and music is The exquisite knocking of the blood. Space is no more, under the mud; His bliss is older than the sun. ...
— Georgian Poetry 1911-12 • Various |
