"Fawn" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... fled me like a hunted fawn I followed singing, deeming it was Thou, Seeking this face that on our pillow now Glimmers behind thy golden hair like dawn, And, like a setting moon, within my breast Sinks down each night ...
— English Poems • Richard Le Gallienne
... and 0.75 respectively, that of fresh-fallen snow being 0.78, and of white paper 0.70.[1048] But the disc of Jupiter is by no means purely white. The general ground is tinged with ochre; the polar zones are leaden or fawn coloured; large spaces are at times stained or suffused with chocolate-browns and rosy hues. It is occasionally seen ruled from pole to pole with dusky bars, and is never wholly free from obscure markings. The reflection, ...
— A Popular History of Astronomy During the Nineteenth Century - Fourth Edition • Agnes M. (Agnes Mary) Clerke
... trained faculty of observation will discern a hundred differences worthy of scrupulous expression. The old foresters had different names for a buck during each successive year of its life, distinguishing the fawn from the pricket, the pricket from the sore, and so forth, as its age increased. Thus it is also in that illimitable but not trackless forest of moral distinctions. Language halts far behind the truth of things, ...
— Style • Walter Raleigh
... sour cream, and eggs, and saw the reapers take their wages, each a bundle of wheat according to the work he had done—the most lovely sight. The graceful, half-naked, brown figures loaded with sheaves; some had earned so much that their mothers or wives had to help to carry it, and little fawn-like, stark-naked boys trudged off, so proud of their little bundles of wheat or of hummuz (a sort of vetch much eaten both green and roasted). The sakka (water-carrier), who has brought water for the men, gets a handful from each, and drives home his donkey with empty waterskins ...
— Letters from Egypt • Lucie Duff Gordon
... different character, but always she was young and beautiful and full of grace, and only when it came time to go did she assume the disguise of an aged, wrinkled, bent old woman. Sometimes she ran miles and miles at a stretch, darting, springing like a fawn, rushing through the soft, green leaves, leaping rock and rill, her laughter echoing, her bare limbs flashing, her gold hair streaming, her scanty silken draperies whipped to shreds behind her ...
— Flowing Gold • Rex Beach
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