"Sodden" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... same fair parchment with obscenities, Or gild with benedictions; nay," he cried, "Because a satyr feasted in this wood, And fouled the grasses with carousing foot, Shall not a hermit build his chapel here And cleanse the echoes with his litanies? The sodden grasses spring again—why not The trampled soul? Is man less merciful Than nature, good more fugitive than grass?" And so—if, after all, he had not died, And suddenly that door should know his hand, And with that voice as kind as yours he said: "Come, ...
— Artemis to Actaeon and Other Worlds • Edith Wharton
... Theirs is the sovereignty of land and sea. But if a myriad realms spread far and wide O'er earth, if myriad nations till the soil To which heaven's rain gives increase: yet what land Is green as low-lying Egypt, when the Nile Wells forth and piecemeal breaks the sodden glebe? Where are like cities, peopled by like men? Lo he hath seen three hundred towns arise, Three thousand, yea three myriad; and o'er all He rules, the prince of heroes, Ptolemy. Claims half Phoenicia, and half Araby, Syria and Libya, and the AEthiops murk; Sways the Pamphylian ...
— Theocritus • Theocritus
... Summoning an officer, he bade the man conduct her. Iron doors opened and closed for her. She was conscious of long, ill-smelling, concrete-floored corridors, with little steel cages at either side—cages where hopeless, sodden wrecks of men were standing, or sitting in attitudes of brutal despair, or lying on foul bunks, motionless and ...
— The Air Trust • George Allan England
... not rare— With sodden ground and chilly air; The sky presented everywhere A low-pitched roof of doleful grey; With a rain-flusht flood the river ran; Adown it floated a dying Swan, And loudly did lament. It was the middle of the day, The "Swanherd" and his men went on, "Nicking" ...
— Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 99, August 9, 1890. • Various
... lowering darkly. On going to the window she found a most depressing change from the scene of bright merriment she had studied the night before. A chill Winter rain was falling with dreary persistence, pattering on the dead leaves that covered the ground, and soaking into the sodden earth. A few forlorn little birds hopped wearily about, searching in vain in the dry husks and empty insect shells for the food that had once been so plentiful there. Up and down the streets, as ...
— The Red Acorn • John McElroy
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