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His mind was a turgid chaos of misery; and about him the birds shrilled and quavered and carolled till the air was vibrant with their trilling. One might have thought they choired in honour of the Eagle's triumph, in mockery of poor Billy. Then Mr. Woods raised his head with a queer, alert look. Surely he had heard a voice the dearest of all voices. "Billy!" it wailed; "oh, Billy, Billy!"
Darwin, in his "Botanic Garden," says: "So to the sacred Sun in Memnon's fane Spontaneous concords choired the matin strain; Touched by his orient beam responsive rings The living lyre and vibrates all its strings; Accordant aisles the tender tones prolong, And holy echoes swell the adoring song." Scylla was a fair virgin of Sicily, a favorite of the Sea-Nymphs.
Darwin, in his "Botanic Garden," says: "So to the sacred Sun in Memnon's fane Spontaneous concords choired the matin strain; Touched by his orient beam responsive rings The living lyre and vibrates all its strings; Accordant aisles the tender tones prolong, And holy echoes swell the adoring song." Scylla was a fair virgin of Sicily, a favorite of the Sea-Nymphs.
She had turned and looked down, as she always did when human complexities made her seek reassurance as to the worth of this world, on the shiny mud-flats, blue-veined with the running tides, and green marshes where the redshanks choired.
Darwin, in his Botanic Garden, says, "So to the sacred Sun in Memnon's fane Spontaneous concords choired the matin strain; Touched by his orient beam responsive rings The living lyre and vibrates all its strings; Accordant aisles the tender tones prolong, And holy echoes swell the adoring song." Scylla was a fair virgin of Sicily, a favorite of the Sea-Nymphs.
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