"Bosky" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... many-colour'd messenger, that ne'er Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter; Who with thy saffron wings upon my flowers Diffusest honey drops, refreshing showers: And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown My bosky acres and my unshrubb'd down, Rich scarf to my proud earth; why hath thy queen Summon'd me hither ...
— The Tempest • William Shakespeare [Craig, Oxford edition]
... over a tiny pool, where the water was resting on a bed of small pebbles. The oak copse covered the sides of the tiny glen and met across the streamlet, and one below could see nothing but greenery and the glint of the waterfall where the burn broke into the bosky den from the bare heights above. Other times the path, that allowed two to walk abreast if they wished very much and kept close together, would skirt the face of the high river bank, and if you peeped down through the foliage ...
— Kate Carnegie and Those Ministers • Ian Maclaren
... as your leader, your guide, your mentor, we shall go forth into the open, to seek out the bosky dell; to pierce the wildwood tangle; to penetrate the trackless wilderness. Our tents shall be spread alongside the purling brook, hard by some larger body of water. There, in my mind's eye, I see us as we practise archery ...
— Fibble, D. D. • Irvin Shrewsbury Cobb
... scene; but, for my part, I did not care to go far from the borders of the beds of hyacinths and tulips and daffodils. The grass sighed with secret tears under the foot, and it was better to let the fancy, which would not feel the need of goloshes, rove disembodied to the bosky depths into which the oaks thickened afar, dim amid the vapor-laden air. From the garden-plots one could look, dry-shod, down upon the Thames, along which the pretty town of Hampton stretches, and in whose lively current ...
— London Films • W.D. Howells
... mass of the undergrowth presently intervened, so that, as he broke his way through it, he wondered that its bosky dimness should be so visible beneath the heavy shadows of the great trees looming high overhead. Once he stopped dubiously; the glow evidently came rather from below than above. It is too much to say that a thrill of fear ...
— The Mystery of Witch-Face Mountain and Other Stories • Charles Egbert Craddock
... building, Sally's eyes were snapping, and her head wagging ominously; Aileen's cheeks were even a deeper tint than they ordinarily were, and her head was held a little higher. Evidently something of a disturbing nature had taken place. They did not see Beverly in her bosky nook and she did not feel called upon to reveal herself ...
— A Dixie School Girl • Gabrielle E. Jackson
... silhouette of the island broke suddenly into bosky valleys soft with trees and bracken, and cliff-ringed bays, with wide-spread arms of tumbled rock whose outer ends were ...
— Pearl of Pearl Island • John Oxenham
... midnight dew, Steals in the covert on the sleeping foe, And wreaks the horrors of a barbarous woe; Yet, yet returning to the home-girt spot— The vengeful causes and the deed forgot—[14] Where greenest boughs o'er sloping banks impend, And gurgling waves to bosky dells descend; Intent the long expectant brood to sea, He halts beneath the broad acacia tree; And warmly pressed by wonder-gloating eyes, Displays the vantage of each savage prize; Stills with ...
— Autographs for Freedom, Volume 2 (of 2) (1854) • Various
... profession of a sawyer, and used often to pitch his saw-pit, in the more genial seasons of the year, among the woods of the hill. I remember, he never failed setting it down in some pretty spot, sheltered from the prevailing winds under the lee of some fern-covered rising ground or some bosky thicket, and always in the near neighbourhood of a spring; and it used to be one of my most delightful exercises to find out for myself among the thick woods, in some holiday journey of exploration, the place of a newly-formed pit. With the saw-pit ...
— My Schools and Schoolmasters - or The Story of my Education. • Hugh Miller
... sole, upon a plumed spray That o'er the general leafage boldly grew, He summ'd the woods in song; or typic drew The watch of hungry hawks, the lone dismay Of languid doves when long their lovers stray, And all birds' passion-plays that sprinkle dew At morn in brake or bosky avenue. Whate'er birds did or dreamed, this bird could say. Then down he shot, bounced airily along The sward, twitched in a grasshopper, made song Midflight, perched, prinked, and to his art again. Sweet Science, this large riddle read me plain: How may the death ...
— The Poems of Sidney Lanier • Sidney Lanier
... loud, tremulous, and high, There rose and swelled the owlet's shuddering cry. Scarce on the air this dismal sound had died, When they the Witch's hobbling form espied. Beholding Robin, by the arm she caught him, And to a place of rocks in haste she brought him; And here, where bosky thickets burgeoned round, She pointed to a chasm ...
— The Geste of Duke Jocelyn • Jeffery Farnol
... might have sat to play his pipes, the Cyclops might have pleaded with the graceful Galatea. This haze which hangs over the white oak grove, for aught I know, may be the incense from Druid fires. Along this valley Chaucer's Immortals may have gone a pilgriming, and in this bosky wood Robin Hood may have trained his band. The legend that from this cliff an Indian lover on his favorite pony once leaped to the creek a hundred feet below and a mighty funeral ceremony was held at the Indian mound a little farther down the valley seems to be attested ...
— Some Summer Days in Iowa • Frederick John Lazell |
