"Budding" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... apprehension for the black pool scowled about them. He dared not think what a long heavy rain might do to the wonderful island of cotton which now stood fully five feet high, with flowers and squares and budding bolls. It might not rain, but the safest thing would be to work at those dykes, so he started for spade and hoe. He heard Miss ...
— The Quest of the Silver Fleece - A Novel • W. E. B. Du Bois
... she liked to feel that she was the pivot on which little old Mount Mark turned. But this was only when she was found out. As far as she could she kept her little "seeds of fun" carefully up her sleeve, and it was only when the indiscreet adoration of her friends brought the budding plants to light, that she laughingly declared "it was a circus to ...
— Prudence Says So • Ethel Hueston
... Painting and sculpture began slowly to emit their rays through the eclipse of more than a century. The allied art shared in this second and secondary renaissance. Haydn was in full fruit, Mozart ripening, and Music watched, in the cradle of Beethoven, her budding Shakespeare. A fourth Teuton was studying the symphonies of the spheres; and within the first five years of the century, while the "crowning mercy" of Yorktown was maturing, a planet that had never before dawned on the eye of man took its place with the ancient ...
— Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, Vol. 17, - No. 97, January, 1876 • Various
... there,—one April day, when the whole landscape was full of color from the budding trees,—and before I could look at the view, I caught sight of some rare vines, already in leaf, about the dilapidated walls of the cabin. Then across the low paling I saw the brilliant colors of tulips and daffodils. There were many rose-bushes; in fact, the whole top of the hill was a ...
— A Country Doctor and Selected Stories and Sketches • Sarah Orne Jewett
... withered—dead, nor has revived again! Perfect and lovely, needful to my sight, Why comes he not to ornament my days? The barren fields forget their barrenness, The soulless earth mates with these soulless things, Why should I not obtain my recompense? The budding spring should bring, or summer's prime, At least a vision of the vanished child, And let his heart commune with mine again, Though in a dream—his life was but a dream; Then might I wait with patient cheerfulness, That cheerfulness which keeps one's tears unshed, And ...
— Poems • Elizabeth Stoddard
|
