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Trees And Plants-Linden: Quotations from Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations
Linden. Tilia. The linden in the fervors of July Hums with a louder concert.— BRYANT — Among the Trees.
If thou lookest on the lime-leaf, Thou a heart's form will discover; Therefore are the lindens ever Chosen seats of each fond lover.— HEINE — Book of Songs. New Spring. No. 31. St. 3.
Lotus. Zizyphus Lotus. Where drooping lotos-flowers, distilling balm, Dream by the drowsy streamlets sleep hath crown'd, While Care forgets to sigh, and Peace hath balsamed Pain. C.— PAUL H. HAYNE — Sonnet. Pent in
this Common Sphere. Oh! what are the brightest that e'er have blown To the lote-tree, springing by Alla's throne, Whose flowers have a soul in every leaf.— MOORE — Lalla Rookh. Paradise and
the Peri. They wove the lotus band to deck And fan with pensile wreath their neck.— MOORE — Odes of Anacreon. Ode LXX.
A spring there is, whose silver waters show Clear as a glass the shining sands below: A flowering lotos spreads its arms above, Shades all the banks, and seems itself a grove.— POPE — Sappho to Phaon. L. 177..
The lotos bowed above the tide and dreamed.— MARGARET J. PRESTON — Rhodope's
Sandal. Magnolia. Magnolia. Fragrant o'er all the western groves The tall magnolia towers unshaded.— MARIA BROOKS — Written on Seeing
Pharamond. A languid magnolia showers From its shivering leaflets the dew; 'Tis lonely and bare of its flowers, That decked once its branches with blue.— THEUDOBACH — The Transplanted
Magnolia. Mahogany. Swietenia Mahogoni. Christmas is here: Winds whistle shrill, Icy and chill, Little care we: Little we fear Weather without, Sheltered about The Mahogany-Tree.— THACKERAY — The Mahogany-Tree.
TREES AND PLANTS-OAK. 615 Maple. Acer. That was a day of delight and wonder. While lying the shade of the maple trees under- He felt the soft breeze at its frolicksome play; He smelled the sweet odor of newly mown hay.— THOS. DUNN ENGLISH — Under the Trees.
Mulberry Morus. O, the mulberry-tree is of trees the queen! Bare long after the rest are green; But as time steals onwards, while none perceives Slowly she clothes herself with leaves- Hides her fruit under them, hard to find. * * * * * * But by and by, when the flowers grow few And the fruits are dwindling and small to view- Out she comes in her matron grace With the purple myriads of her race; Full of plenty from root to crown, Showering plenty her feet adown. While far over head hang gorgeously Large luscious berries of sanguine dye, For the best grows highest, always highest, Upon the mulberry-tree.— D. M. MULOCK — The Mulberry-Tree.
Oak. Quercus. Young Oak! when I planted thee deep in the ground, I hoped that thy days would be longer than mine; That thy dark-waving branches would flourish around, And ivy thy trunk with its mantle entwine.— BYRON — To an Oak at Newstead.
A song to the oak, the brave old oak, Who hath ruled in the greenwood long; Here's health and renown to his broad green crown, And his fifty arms so strong. There's fear in his frown when the Sun goes down, And the fire in the West fades out; And he showeth his might on a wild midnight, When the storms through his branches shout.— H. F. CHORLEY — The Brave Old Oak.
The oak, when living, monarch of the wood; The English oak, which, dead, commands the flood.— CHURCHILL — Gotham. I. 303.