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I was glorified, I was enriched, by the flower-sweet song as by the smoke of the poyomatl, my soul was contented, I trembled in spirit, I inhaled the sweetness, my soul was intoxicated, I inhaled the fragrance of delicious flowers in the place of riches, my soul was drunken with the flowers. Zanio in xochitl tonequimilol, zanio in cuicatl ic huehuetzi in tellel in Dios ye mochan.
"Shall we go there now?" asked Violet as they closed the door softly behind them and started down the hall. "We might as well," answered Billie, with a sigh. "The sooner I get it over with, the better I'll feel. But oh, that hundred dollars!" "Never mind, we'll get it if we have to steal it," said Laura firmly, as they came out into the flower-sweet air.
All the facts of sex-life can be learned in the flower, and the associations thus indelibly impressed cannot fail to leave at least a trace of fragrance and loveliness on even an obtuse nature. No matter what the later experiences or mistakes may be, the whole conception of this side of life cannot sink so low as might be the case if there were not this flower-sweet background.
An inner world. If we could forget everything outside." "I am not good at forgetting." He felt her fingers, languid and tremulous, at his throat, her heart's strong throb against his shoulder as she bent, the sweet breath of her whisper stirring the hair at his temple: "Try, Ban." Her mouth closed down upon his, flower-sweet, petal-light, and was withdrawn.
Fluted dahlias, scarlet poppies, and all the flowers that exhale their spice in the last hot days of August burned incense for them. Their very hair was laden with odor, their fingers flower-sweet, their minds took on the many colors of their exquisite surroundings.
Marne smiled at Mary across the flower-sweet table. "No," answered Hare presently. "Money isn't everything, but it is most. It makes the mare go; also the nightmare. It talks, it shouts, and in the only language that needs no interpreter. I may describe it, without fear of contradiction, as the Esperanto of commerce." "Clever, Pinky!" called his sister, derisively.
A winsome little maid came rushing to Dannie, threw her arms about his neck, and hugged him tight, as he stooped to lift her. Her yellow curls were against his cheek, and her breath was flower-sweet in his face. "Why didn't you kiss Aunt Mary?" she demanded. "Daddy Dolan always kisses mammy when he comes from all day gone. Aunt Mary's worked so hard to please you.
And happening to glance across the flower-sweet table at the moment, he was adroitly detached and re-attached by the superbly "finished" Miss Avery. The little dinner progressed. Nor was this the only spot in town where evening meals were going forward amid stimulating talk. Far away over the town, at the same hour, the paying guests of Mrs.
You are dearer to me than life!" She leaned over him, and he felt as in a dream the old potential charm of her flower-sweet breath and glowing beauty. Still, though he submitted to her caresses, he did not return them. Within his ears the impassioned words of Helene were sounding perpetually, deafening him to every other appeal.
To sit in one of their nurseries for a day was to change one's views forever as to babyhood. The youngest ones, rosy fatlings in their mothers' arms, or sleeping lightly in the flower-sweet air, seemed natural enough, save that they never cried. I never heard a child cry in Herland, save once or twice at a bad fall; and then people ran to help, as we would at a scream of agony from a grown person.
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