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How pleasant the still hours with Azalia beneath the old elms, which spread out their arms above them, as if to pronounce a benediction, the moonlight smiling around them, the dews perfuming the air with the sweet odors of roses and apple-blooms, the cricket chirping his love-song to his mate, the river forever flowing, and sweetly chanting its endless melody!
The lattices were flung wide open, that he might see the trees tossing about their young leaves, and the grass like grass in paradise, and hear the bees humming among the apple-blooms, and the sheep bleating on the fells. The earth was full of the beauty and the tranquillity of God.
I can smell Becky's fresh bread, in my dreams, just out of the brick oven. Never eat bread cooked in a stove till I came out here. I never drunk any water like that spring on the ridge. Last night I was back there, and the maples were all yellow like sunshine. Once it was spring, and apple-blooms up in the hill orchard.
Fresh as the overhanging apple-blooms, but immobile as if carved from pearl, perhaps it was just such a face as hers that fronted Jason, amid the clustering boughs of Colchian rhododendrons, when first he sought old Æëtes' prescient daughter, the maiden face of magical Medea, innocent as yet of murder, sacrilege, fratricide, and plunder, eloquent of all possibilities of purity and peace, but vaguely adumbrating all conceivable disquietude and guilt.
Newville, giving her a kiss. It was a summer night. The air was fragrant with the perfume of lilacs and apple-blooms. The young moon was going down in the west, throwing its departing beams upon the unfinished tower of King's Chapel. Ruth, looking out from her white-curtained window, beheld a handful of cloud drift across the crescent orb and dissolve in thin air.
No apple-roasting in winter evenings. No pan-pie with hot brown bread on Sunday mornings. CHERRIES. They rivalled the apple-blooms in snowy profusion, and the branches were covered with tiny balls. The sun mounted warm and high in the heavens and they blushed under his ardent gaze.
But before I knew it the young darling, with her curls and buds and apple-blooms had gone and summer was rioting over the gardens and fields and hills, rich, lush colored, radiant, redolent, gorgeous, rose-scented and pulsing with a life that made me breathless. Even the roads along the valley were bordered with flowers that the sun had wooed to the swooning point.
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