"Ferny" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... upwards, running from heath into copses of holly and yew, and so back into heath again. It was joyful to hear the merry whistle of blackbirds as they darted from one clump of greenery to the other. Now and again a peaty amber colored stream rippled across their way, with ferny over-grown banks, where the blue kingfisher flitted busily from side to side, or the gray and pensive heron, swollen with trout and dignity, stood ankle-deep among the sedges. Chattering jays and loud wood-pigeons flapped thickly overhead, while ever and anon the measured tapping of Nature's ...
— The White Company • Arthur Conan Doyle
... a cloistered pile, whose Gothic towers Rose by the margin of a sedgy lake, Embosomed in a valley of green bowers, And girt by many a grove and ferny brake Loved by the antlered deer, a tender youth Whom Time to childhood's gentle sway of love Still spared; yet innocent as is the dove, Nor mounded yet by Care's relentless tooth; Stood musing, of that fair antique domain The orphan lord! And yet, no childish ...
— Venetia • Benjamin Disraeli
... Oh ye winter winds, Along the ferny reaches, Nor whirl the yellow leaves which cling Upon the saddened beeches; And gently breathe upon the hills Where spring's first violets perished,— Died like the budding summer hopes Our ...
— Continental Monthly - Volume 1 - Issue 3 • Various
... for the first twenty-four miles contain running water. The great Hakalau gulch we crossed early yesterday, has a river with a smooth bed as wide as the Thames at Eton. Some have only small quiet streams, which pass gently through ferny grottoes. Others have fierce strong torrents dashing between abrupt walls of rock, among immense boulders into deep abysses, and cast themselves over precipice after precipice into the ocean. Probably, many of these are the courses of fire torrents, whose ...
— The Hawaiian Archipelago • Isabella L. Bird
... provided me with one solitary fond remembrance—only with dreary, wing-clipping, mind-starving recollections. No, no; I was not leaving home behind, I was flying homeward now. Home, home to Caddagat, home to ferny gullies, to the sweet sad rush of many mountain waters, to the majesty of rugged Borgongs; home to dear old grannie, and uncle and aunt, to books, to music; refinement, company, pleasure, and the dear old homestead I love ...
— My Brilliant Career • Miles Franklin
... where Nat lay. Wherever the scrub parted and allowed me a glimpse I kept my eye on the bush above the chine; and so, with torn clothes and face and hands bleeding, crossed the dip, mounted the slope and emerged upon a ferny hollow ringed about on three sides with the macchia. There face-downward in the fern lay Nat, ...
— Sir John Constantine • Prosper Paleologus Constantine
... wilt thou wander with me? We will roam through the forest, the meadow, and lea; We will haunt the sunny bowers, and when day begins to flee, Our couch shall be the ferny brake, our canopy the tree. Merry maid, merry maid, come and wander with me! No life like the gipsy's, so joyous ...
— Rookwood • William Harrison Ainsworth
... nest of vivid green. The ferny vegetation round him, though so abundant, was quite uniform: it was a grove of machine-made foliage, a world of green triangles with saw-edges, and not a single flower. The air was warm with a vaporous warmth, and the stillness ...
— The Return of the Native • Thomas Hardy
... trees. The winds flow in melody through their colossal spires, and they are vocal everywhere with the songs of birds and running water. Miles of fragrant ceanothus and manzanita bushes bloom beneath them, and lily gardens and meadows, and damp, ferny glens in endless variety of fragrance and color, compelling the admiration of every observer. Sweeping on over ridge and valley, these noble trees extend a continuous belt from end to end of the range, only slightly ...
— The Mountains of California • John Muir
... planned Forest Park had known better than to try to improve on nature's handiwork, and rocks and ravines, brooks and pools, wooded slopes and ferny tangles, were left practically unchanged. Polly loved birds and flowers and all the scents and sounds of summer fields and woods, and now, as the air came laden with faint perfume, and a carol burst into the stillness, she clasped her ...
— Polly of the Hospital Staff • Emma C. Dowd
... and was almost glad to note that her lids were red and that she didn't cry becomingly. I can't express my sensation to you except by saying that she seemed part of life's huge league against me. And suddenly I thought of an afternoon we had spent together in the country, on a ferny hill-side, when we had sat under a beech-tree, and her hand had lain palm upward in the moss, close to mine, and I had watched a little black-and-red beetle ...
— The Long Run - 1916 • Edith Wharton
... hills, where the tall trees grow, There lives an axeman that I know. From his little hut by a ferny creek, Day after day, week after week, He goes each morn with his shining axe, Trudging along by the forest tracks; And he chops and he chops till the daylight goes— High on the hills, ...
— A Book for Kids • C. J. (Clarence Michael James) Dennis
... the mossy quietness That grows upon the great stone flags, The dark tree-ferns, the staghorn ferns, The prehistoric, antlered stags That carven stand and stare among The silent, ferny wilderness. ...
— Georgian Poetry 1916-17 - Edited by Sir Edward Howard Marsh • Various
... mirror, that the several Seems lost, or blended in the mighty all. Lone lakes; rills gushing through rock-rooted trees: Peaked mountains shadowing vales of peacefulness: Glens echoing to the flashing waterfall. Then that sweet twilight isle! with friends delayed Beside a ferny bank 'neath oaks and yews; The moon between two mountain peaks embayed; Heaven and the waters dyed with sunset hues: And he, the Poet of the age and land, Discoursing as we wandered ...
— The Prose Works of William Wordsworth • William Wordsworth
... in faint earth tremors. The two men plunged down into the heavy fog, which quickly covered them, Jim carrying Lucille in his arms. He felt the ferny undergrowth all about him, the thick boles of tree-ferns emerged ...
— Astounding Stories of Super-Science, May, 1930 • Various
... with loosened rein, o'er grassy mead, through ferny hollows, o'erleaping chattering rill that babbled to the moon, 'mid swaying reeds and whispering sedge, past crouching bush and stately tree, and so at last they reached the woods. By shadowy brake and thicket, through pools of radiant moonlight, ...
— The Geste of Duke Jocelyn • Jeffery Farnol
... extending the whole length of the town. On it are situated many of the large stores, offices, and markets of the city. The streets are wide and handsome, and the buildings in European style, with deep verandahs and arcades, all built of stone. The town is built on the side of a hill, with ferny, moss-covered banks, overhung by tropical trees, close to some of the principal offices. At the back are the mountains, the peak overhead, with the signal station on the top, always busily at work, making and answering signals with flags as ships and junks enter or leave the ...
— A Voyage in the 'Sunbeam' • Annie Allnut Brassey
... the day passed, a day that remains forever an idyl of simple loveliness to me, such as any man is the richer for having known. When darkness overtook us, we made for ourselves the softest of ferny beds, and slept serenely, untroubled by anything, under the light ...
— White Shadows in the South Seas • Frederick O'Brien
... was all virgin, the world all shut out, the face of things unchanged by any of man's doings. Here was no living presence, save for the limpets on the rocks, for some old, grey, rain-beaten ram that I might rouse out of a ferny den betwixt two boulders, or for the haunting and the piping of the gulls. It was older than man; it was found so by incoming Celts, and seafaring Norsemen, and Columba's priests. The earthy savour of the bog plants, the rude disorder of the ...
— The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson, Volume 9 • Robert Louis Stevenson
... we recall that day? Has its grace passed away? Its tenderest, dream-like tone, Like one of Turner's landscapes limned on air— Has its fine perfume flown And left the memory bare? Not so; its charm is still Over wood, vale and hill— The ferny odor sweet, the humming insect chorus, ...
— The New Penelope and Other Stories and Poems • Frances Fuller Victor |
