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Updated: May 15, 2025
Your songs, like birds from the lonely land of snow, are winging to build their nests in my heart against the warmth of its April, and I am content to wait for the merry season. They knew the way and went to seek you along the narrow lane, but I wandered abroad into the night for I was ignorant.
"You go to the left here!" he shouted, as the Aigle was winging gracefully to the right. "I think you're mistaken, sir," replied the chauffeur, stopping while the car panted reproachfully. "I know the 'Routes de France' says left, but they told me at Alais a new road had now been finished, and the old one condemned." "Well, I'd take anything I heard there with a grain of salt," said Sir Samuel.
Say, Jim, I've never said much about it, but you let any of these fellows who own horses get a soak on, and they get to be a kind of a village pest, with their talk about blowing up in the stretch, shoe blisters on the left forearm, etc. Now, since when did a horse get an arm? They have got me winging. I can't follow them at all. But to return to last night.
Half mad with joy the boys embraced each other and shook hands till it seemed they would fall off, and performed a dozen mad antics. For, winging its way steadily toward them, though still at a great distance, was an aeroplane that they had no difficulty in recognizing at once as the Golden Eagle II.
Every now and then a small party of them rise up, and after winging their way two or three times round the lagoon, at the same time giving a series of their quack, quack, which are loudly responded to from the recesses of the reeds, they again settle down in another part of it.
A moment later and they were climbing rapidly, so rapidly that soon they looked like two great birds winging their way over the Allied front and across No-Man's-Land into the dark beyond. Blaine's observer, Stanley, was also in his seat behind. When the two girls finally reached their quarters that night at the small inn in the adjacent village they were both dispirited.
Or an inter-urban trolley winging its way through the dusk like a casket of golden light? Or even a country flivver, loaded down with parcels and holly and the Yuletide keg of root beer? Root beer may be but meager flaggonage compared to mulled claret, but at any rate 'tis honest, 'tis actual, 'tis tangible and potable.
Not all the furies in the universe shall prevent the world from hearing the cry of faith and hope uttered by a single free spirit, from hearing the song of the Gallic lark winging its way heavenward! March 21, 1916. The war has shown us how fragile are the treasures of our civilisation. Of all our goods, freedom, on which we prided ourselves most, has proved the frailest.
Then the last of the colony take flight, winging their way southward leisurely and comfortably, putting in at many a port where fish are cleaned and scraps are thrown overboard, until they arrive at their chosen harbour by some populous and smoke-clouded city, and learn to dodge the steamboats and swim in troubled waters. So the Gull Paradise is deserted by all but its guardians.
Daylight was full and broad now; and the sun was rising. With it came the first signs of wind. Ducks filled the air in all directions, some circling about other ponds; others winging their way in long flights toward distant feeding grounds. Every few moments Mr. Kincaid had a shot as some of these dropped to the decoys.
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