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Then the Dwarf beheld her fairness, and the wild-wood many-leaved Before his eyes was reeling at the hope his heart conceived; So sorely he longed for her body; and he laughed before her and cried, 'O Lady of the Disir, thou farest wandering wide Lamenting thy beloved and the folk-mote of the spear, But if amidst of the battle this child of the hammer he bear He shall laugh at the foemen's edges and come back to thy lily breast And of all the days of his life-time shall his coming years be best. Then she bowed adown her godhead and sore for the Hauberk she prayed; But his greedy eyes devoured her as he stood in the door and said; 'Come lie in mine arms!
So they took up their wandering staves again, and departed for Rome, like the Apostle, "not knowing what should befall them there." "Oh dear!" said Mrs. "Why! what's the matter?" asked Katy, looking up from the many-leaved journal from Clover over which she was poring.
Burnside's example and Don's for I think Don has had a hand in waking him up. "Speaking of Don I found him out in your garden yesterday, pruning your old rose-bushes the ones that you inherited with the garden. He says you are particularly fond of the many-leaved pink ones that smell so much sweeter than any hot-house rose that ever grew. "Mr.
And who was he, who thought there were more things in heaven and earth, than were dreamt of in old philosophies, who kept his tables always by him for open questions? and whose tablets whose many-leaved tablets, are they then, that are tumbled out upon us here, glowing with 'all saws, all forms, all pressures past, that youth and observation copied there. And if aphorisms are made out of the pith and heart of sciences, if 'no man can write good aphorisms who is not sound and grounded, what Wittenberg, what University was he bred in?
The sermons, once so many-leaved, grew more and more lean: and before long I should have relinquished this labor altogether, if my father, who was a fast friend to completeness, had not, by words and promises, induced me to persevere till the last Sunday in Trinity; though, at the conclusion, scarcely more than the text, the statement, and the divisions were scribbled on little pieces of paper.
He took his way down the trail, his face set straight before him, the smoke of his breath streaming behind. The first skidway he scaled with care, laying his rule flat across the face of each log, entering the figures on his many-leaved tablets of beech, marking the timbers swiftly with his blue crayon. The woods were empty.
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