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Updated: May 16, 2025
We afterwards went to Tom Spring's, from Tom's to the 'Finish, from the 'Finish' to the watch-house that is, THEY did and sent for me, just as I was getting into bed, to bail them all out." "They're happy dogs, those young noblemen," said Mr Eglantine; "nothing but pleasure from morning till night; no affectation neither no HOTURE; but manly downright straightforward good fellows."
By the side of the garden-flowers, of Spring's curled darlings, the hyacinths, of rosebuds, dear to sketching maidens, of flower-de-luces and morning-glories, nay, oftener than these, and more tenderly caressed by the colored brush that rendered them, were those common growths which fling themselves to be crushed under our feet and our wheels, making themselves so cheap in this perpetual martyrdom that we forget each of them is a ray of the Divine beauty.
I had only waited for daylight to write you, my dear heart, and with the light came your little green spirit-lamp to make my lukewarm water seethe though this time it found it ready to boil over. Your pity for my restless nights at present is premature, but I shall give you credit for it. The Elbe still lies turbid and growling in her ice-bonds: the spring's summons to burst them is not yet loud enough for her. I say to the weather: "If you would only be cold or warm! But you stay continually at freezing-point, and at this rate the matter may long drag on." For the present my activity is limited to sending out, far and wide, from the warm seat at the writing-table, diverse conjurations, whose magic starts quantities of fascines, boards, wheelbarrows, etc., from inland towards the Elbe, perchance to serve as a prosaic dam in restraint of the poetical foaming of the flood. After I had spent the morning in this useful rather than agreeable correspondence, my resolve was to chat away comfortably through the evening with you, beloved one, as though we were sitting on the sofa in the red drawing-room; and with sympathetic attention to my desire the mail kept for my enjoyment precisely at this gossiping hour your letter, which I should have received by good rights day before yesterday. You know, if you were able to decipher my inexcusably scrawled note from Schlawe, how I struck a half-drunken crowd of hussar officers there, who disturbed me in my writing. In the train I had, with my usual bad luck, a lady vis-
It gives a clear and comprehensive account of last spring's operations by the Government and by the state of Montana in capturing and shipping elk from the Yellowstone Park herd, for the double purpose of diminishing the elk surplus in the Park and stocking vacant ranges elsewhere.
"Nothing resting in its own completeness Can have worth or beauty; but alone Because it leads and tends to farther sweetness, Fuller, higher, deeper than its own. "Spring's real glory dwells not in the meaning, Gracious though it be, of her blue hours; But is hidden in her tender leaning To the summer's richer wealth of flowers."
The cleverest of this group of plays strictly intended for sexual education—as Shaw's “Mrs. Warren's Profession” or plays of Pinero and similar ones would belong only indirectly in this circle—is probably Wedekind's “Spring's Awakening.” It brought to Germany, and especially to Berlin, any education which the Friedrichstrasse had failed to bring.
Overhead, the larch-boughs dangled green tresses, or a grove of beech shook sunlight through branches decked with translucent gold. Now and then they came out into open spaces, where trees rent from the soil, dead amid spring's leafage, told of a great winter storm; new grass grew thickly about the shattered trunks, and in the hollows whence the roots had been torn.
Here once again she appeared to be searching for something through the yellow sunshine and the falling blossom-petals confetti from Spring's wedding. And presently she found it, or seemed to an old gate, off its hinges. But the wood was rotting, and she was no fool.
"For I left Mr Snow at Major Spring's, and went on a long way by myself, and it is just possible, that, after all, you are right, and I have gone too far for the first ride; for see, I am a little shaky," added she, as the teacup she passed to Mr Snow trembled in her hand.
The early flowers at her feet glowed like stars of hope and promise and the bursting buds of the trees told of spring's teeming womb and dew of youth; while the shadow of her cottage gable and chimney falling as it did across the little mound on which she stood recalled to her the promises of Him who setteth the solitary in families.
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