"Brooklet" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... neighbouring Dartymoor brooklet'll Tempt us at eve to set out, Greenheart in hand, and ...
— Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 159, September 1st, 1920 • Various
... in the leafy forest A thousand tones are heard,— The laughing, dancing brooklet, The song of bright-winged bird, The buzz of bee on flower, The leaf by breezes fanned, The hum of tiny insect Whose feeble notes command The modulated heart-beat To know the great decree, That frees ...
— Our Profession and Other Poems • Jared Barhite
... would lead her directly home. However, she had the good sense to stop where she was, and there, among the crags, by the stained remnants of winter's snow, thirteen thousand feet above sea-level, she was to spend the night. The cold wind blew a gale, roaring and booming among the crags, the alpine brooklet turned to ice, while, in the lee of the crag, shivering with cold, hugging shaggy Scotch in her arms, she ...
— Wild Life on the Rockies • Enos A. Mills
... bare brown meadow over, And found not even a leaf of clover; Nor where the sod was chill and wet Could she spy one tint of violet; But where the brooklet ran A noisy swollen billow, She picked in her little ...
— On the Tree Top • Clara Doty Bates
... words of affection Are whispered by thee in thy tenderest tone, And in the winter dark clouds of dejection By thee are dispelled till all sorrow has flown. Thou'rt with the zephyrs low, And with the brooklet's flow, And with the feathered choir all the year long; Happy each child of thine, Blest with thy gifts divine, Charming our ...
— An Anthology of Australian Verse • Bertram Stevens
... Song: "And whither goest thou, gentle sigh" The Return of Spring Spring The Child Asleep Death of Archbishop Turpin The Blind Girl of Castel-Cuille A Christmas Carol Consolation To Cardinal Richelieu The Angel and the Child On the Terrace of the Aigalades To my Brooklet Barreges Will ever the dear days come back again? At La Chaudeau A Quiet Life The Wine of Jurancon Friar Lubin Rondel My Secret From the Italian. The Celestial Pilot The Terrestrial Paradise Beatrice To Italy Seven Sonnets and a Canzone I. The Artist II. ...
— The Complete Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow • Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
... of peace. But her distress And grief she has lived past; your giddy round Disturbs her not, for she is learned profound In deep brahminical philosophy. She chews the cud of sweetest revery Above your worldly prattle, brooklet merry, Oblivious of ...
— The Galaxy - Vol. 23, No. 1 • Various
... blaze of as many firesides. But Lizzie's vision was never clouded. Mrs. Ford might gaze into the thickening summer dusk and wipe her spectacles; but her companion hummed her old ballad-ends with an unbroken voice. She no more ceased to smile under evil tidings than the brooklet ceases to ripple beneath the projected shadow of the roadside willow. The self-given promises of that tearful night of parting were forgotten. Vigilance had no place in Lizzie's scheme of heavenly idleness. The idea of moralizing ...
— The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 15, No. 89, March, 1865 • Various
... through the foliage. The air was burdened with perfume. High above the sombre umbrage rose slender snowy spires, around which the moonbeams lingered lovingly. He left the little skiff and trod the terraced ascent. A meandering brooklet, tributary of the larger stream, was spanned by fairy-like bridges. He hesitated among the intersecting ways, mazy, enchanting, and flower-bordered. The living air was full of subdued sound. Bubbling water, tinkling bells, and the mingling of many voices made music ...
— Atma - A Romance • Caroline Augusta Frazer
... the brooklet are cheery, Oh, but the woods show such delicate greens, Strange how you droop and how soon you are weary - Too well I know what that weariness means. But how could I know in the crisp winter weather (Though sometimes I noticed ...
— Poems of Cheer • Ella Wheeler Wilcox
... keynote. A simple ballad awakens a quiet pleasure, while the magnificent symphonies of Beethoven or Mozart fill the soul with a rapture with which the former feeling is no more to be compared than the brooklet with the ocean; for the latter is inexpressibly nearer to ...
— The Continental Monthly, Vol III, Issue VI, June, 1863 - Devoted to Literature and National Policy • Various
... Here we dug into the sand for pebbles, and skipped them upon the surface of the water. Here we wet our feet while examining a jelly-fish, which the waves, having just tossed it up, now sought to snatch away again. Here we trod along the brink of a fresh-water brooklet, which flows across the beach, becoming shallower and more shallow, till at last it sinks into the sand, and perishes in the effort to bear its little tribute to the main. Here some vagary appears to have bewildered us; for our tracks go round and round, and are confusedly intermingled, ...
— Footprints on The Sea-Shore (From "Twice Told Tales") • Nathaniel Hawthorne
... was twice her age—just ten—at this period; and a sort of instinct led me to adopt the little creature, in place of poor Edgar, in the friendship of my boyish heart. I drew her in her little wagon—carried her over the brooklet—constructed her tiny playthings—and in consideration of my usefulness, in most generally keeping her in the best of humors, her mother was not unwilling that I should be her frequent playmate. Nay, ...
— Confession • W. Gilmore Simms
... shepherd his white garment spread Upon the green bank, and danced all around, Whilst the sweet flowerets nodded on his head, And his fair lambs were scattered on the ground; Beneath his foot the brooklet ran along, Which strolleth round the vale ...
— Bristol Bells - A Story of the Eighteenth Century • Emma Marshall
... pussy-willows grow? How do the meadow violets blow? How do the brooklet's waters flow? ...
— Pinafore Palace • Various
... Chattanooga, nestling down in the bend of the river, while away in the distance occasional glimpses of the stream could be had as it wound in and out around the hills and mountains that lined its either side, until the great river looked no larger than a mountain brooklet. From the highest peak of Lookout Mountain we catch faint streaks of far away Alabama; on the right, North Carolina; to the north, Tennessee; and to the south and east were Georgia and our own dear South Carolina. From this place many of our soldiers ...
— History of Kershaw's Brigade • D. Augustus Dickert
... streets or under the trees, where the gay banners were still fluttering, and the white veils, like airy sails, were bulging in the wind, the hymn went on. It was thin and pathetically weak in the mouths of the babes that walked. It was clear, as fresh and pure as a brooklet's ripple, from the mouths of the young communicants. It was of firm contralto strength from the throats of the grave nuns. The notes gained and gained in richness; the hymn was almost a chant with the priests; and in the mouths of the people it was as a ringing ...
— In and Out of Three Normady Inns • Anna Bowman Dodd
... The brooklet flung its ringlets wide, And leapt to him, and kept his pace,— Sang when he sang, and when he sighed, Turned up to him ...
— The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 4, No. 23, September, 1859 • Various
... perfect in the mire, The wayside smoke, perchance, the dwarfish huts, And ramblers' donkey drinking from the ruts:— Long ere you trace how deviously it leads, Back from man's chimneys and the bleating meads To the woodland shadow, to the silvan hush, When but the brooklet chuckles in the brush— Back from the sun and bustle of the vale To where the great voice of the nightingale Fills all the forest like a single room, And all the banks smell of the golden broom; So wander on until the eve descends, And back returning to your firelit friends, You see the ...
— The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition Vol. 14 (of 25) • Robert Louis Stevenson
... where his youthful prime And his happy hours were pass'd, On the distant shore of a foreign clime The wanderer breathed his last. And they dug his grave where the wild flowers wave, By the brooklet's glassy brim; And the song-bird there wakes its morning prayer, And the ...
— The Modern Scottish Minstrel, Volumes I-VI. - The Songs of Scotland of the Past Half Century • Various
... brethren feasted, climbed the gentle slope of the Worcestershire hills, and drank in the beauties of the varied landscape at his feet. There, on a May morning, as he rested under a bank by the side of a brooklet, and was lulled to sleep by the murmuring of the water, he dreamed those dreams that set waking people to thinking, and gave a powerful impetus to the moral and social revolution that was ...
— The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 18, No. 109, November, 1866 • Various
... forth into the summer woods. The eye takes in the charming prospect,—the trees dressed in beautiful green; the "grassy carpet," parted ever and anon by a gliding, gurgling brooklet; the wild flower peeping up near the feet; a landscape of even surface, or at times pleasingly undulated. The atmosphere is freighted with a delightful fragrance; and from rustling bough, from warbling bird, ...
— Music and Some Highly Musical People • James M. Trotter
... rising eminence of land we let our eyes rove over the vast undulating country around us, only the more prominent features impress themselves on our view. The lesser details, the waving grain, the blossoming sumac, the small brooklet, which attract the immediate passerby, are lost in the distance, but the range of forest clad hills, the wide expanse of fertile plain, or the purpling hills in the distance, determine the landscape and claim our attention. So in the light of the present century let us note what we can of ...
— See America First • Orville O. Hiestand
... brooklet wends its happy way Adown a rocky path across the plain. And goes a-galloping along in rain. In drought he stops and waits a lucky day, When clouds roll up and men and women pray, And withered is the corn and grasses and ...
— Some Broken Twigs • Clara M. Beede
... Aetna smoked, Gods of Sicily evoked With the flute, till sulphur taint Dulled and lulled the echoes faint; Pliny, soon his style mislaid, Dogged Miletus' merry maid, As she showed eburnean limbs All-multiplied by brooklet brims; Plautus, see! like Plutus, hold Bosomfuls of orchard-gold, Learns he why that mystic core Was sweet Venus' meed of yore? Dante dreamt (while spirits pass As in wizard's jetty glass) Each black-bossed Briarian trunk Waved live ...
— Poems • Victor Hugo
... roam o'er hill and dale, In calm or storm or windy gale, I love the valley and the hill, The brooklet and the running rill, I love the broad and ...
— The Rover Boys on the Farm - or Last Days at Putnam Hall • Arthur M. Winfield (AKA Edward Stratemeyer)
... Oh shadow, That from the dreaming hill All down the broadening valley Liest so sharp and still? And thou, Oh murmuring brooklet, Whereby in the noonday gleam The loosestrife burns like ruby, And the branched asters dream? "We are born, we are reared, and we linger A various space and die; We dream and are very happy, ...
— Lyrics of Earth • Archibald Lampman
... did not strive to disengage herself. She ceased to pursue the direct path back to Charlemont, the moment she had persuaded herself that the strangers had continued on their way; and turning from the beaten track, she strolled aside, following the route of a brooklet, the windings of which, as it led her forward, were completely hidden from the intrusive glance of any casual wayfarer. The prattle of the little stream as it wound upon its sleepless journey, contributed still more to strengthen the musings of those vagrant fancies that filled ...
— Charlemont • W. Gilmore Simms
... Government has military maps of every foot of its territory so complete that every hill, ravine, brooklet, field, and forest is delineated with perfect accuracy. It is a common boast of Prussian military men, that within the space of eight days 848,000 men can be concentrated to the defense of any single point within the kingdom, and every man of them will be a trained ...
— Scientific American, Vol.22, No. 1, January 1, 1870 • Various
... dug into the sand for pebbles, and skipped them upon the surface of the water. Here we wet our feet while examining a jelly-fish which the waves, having just tossed it up, now sought to snatch away again. Here we trod along the brink of a fresh-water brooklet which flows across the beach, becoming shallower and more shallow, till at last it sinks into the sand and perishes in the effort to bear its little tribute to the main. Here some vagary appears to have bewildered us, for our tracks ...
— Twice Told Tales • Nathaniel Hawthorne
... clover and laughing veronica, hiding the greenfinches, baffling the bee. From rose-loved hedges, woodbine, and cornflower azure-blue, where yellowing wheat-stalks crowd up under the shadow of green firs. All the devious brooklet's sweetness where the iris stays the sunlight; all the wild woods hold the beauty; all the broad hill's thyme and freedom: thrice a hundred years repeated. A hundred years of cowslips, blue-bells, violets; purple spring and golden autumn; sunshine, shower, ...
— The Open Air • Richard Jefferies
... for delay by the hill-paths and the morass, let alone the weary miles that we should have to ride. Tut, man, they fancy not of our crossing this little brooklet here, because I misled them ere we departed; and they are now mightily sure of cutting off our retreat, and getting at the tower before us. How the knaves will slink back when they find the gate barred in their teeth. Forward, Sir Harry, and let the Cumberland ...
— Traditions of Lancashire, Volume 2 (of 2) • John Roby
... of this! Thy sweetheart sits there lonely, And all to her is close and drear. Her thoughts are on thy image only, She holds thee, past all utterance, dear. At first thy passion came bounding and rushing Like a brooklet o'erflowing with melted snow and rain; Into her heart thou hast poured it gushing: And now thy brooklet's dry again. Methinks, thy woodland throne resigning, 'Twould better suit so great a lord The poor young monkey to reward For all the love with which she's pining. She finds the time dismally ...
— Faust • Goethe
... to the knowes, [ewes, knolls] Ca' them where the heather grows, Ca' them where the burnie rows, [brooklet rolls] ...
— Robert Burns - How To Know Him • William Allan Neilson
... "Anent a brooklet as I lay reclined, Listening to hear the water glide along, Minding how thorough the green meads it twined, While caves responded to its muttering song, To distant-rising Avon as it sped, Where, among hills, the ...
— Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, No. CCCXXXII. - June, 1843.,Vol. LIII. • Various
... evenfall in the upland The vesper sparrow sings, And the brooklet in the pasture Still waves its ...
— Our Friend John Burroughs • Clara Barrus
... hill, Where the mealy alder-bushes Crowd around the ruined mill, Where the thrushes whistle early, Where the midges love to play, Where the nettles, tall and stinging, Guard the vine-obstructed way, Where the tired brooklet lingers; In a quiet little pool, Mistress Salmo Fontinalis[A] Keeps a very ...
— St. Nicholas Magazine for Boys and Girls, Vol. 5, July 1878, No. 9 • Various
... were devoted to the most solitary recesses among the neighbouring woods and hills—his fishing-rod was often left behind him, or carried merely as an apology for sauntering slowly by the banks of some little brooklet—and his success so indifferent, that Meg said the piper of Peebles[I-11] would have caught a creelfu' before Maister Francie made out the half-dozen; so that he was obliged, for peace's sake, to vindicate his character, by killing ...
— St. Ronan's Well • Sir Walter Scott
... fresh moss-odors filled the grove With a strange sweetness, the dark hemlock boughs Moved soft, as though they heard the brooklet rouse To its spring soul, and whisper low of love. The white-robed birches stood unbendingly Like royal maids, ...
— A Woman's Love Letters • Sophie M. Almon-Hensley
... deep unlovely brooklet, moaning slow Through moorish fen in utter loneliness! The partridge cowers beside thy loamy flow In pulseful tremor, when with sudden press The huntsman fluskers through the rustled heather. In March thy sallow ...
— The Principles of English Versification • Paull Franklin Baum
... on mossy bank would lie Of brooklet, ripp'ling clear; And she of the sweet azure eye, Close at my list'ning ear, Should sing into my soul a strain Might never be forgot— So rich with joy, so rich ...
— Old Spookses' Pass • Isabella Valancy Crawford
... straight ahead, paying no heed to his lamentations. He left the plain behind him and came up into desolate and wild forest regions. Here the road was bad, almost like a stony and burr-strewn path, with neither bridge nor plank to help them over brooklet and rivulet. The farther they rode, the colder it grew, and after a while ...
— Christmas in Legend and Story - A Book for Boys and Girls • Elva S. Smith
... behind the smooth-sweeping outline of a tall lime; you hear their soft liquid laughter—but if you look with a too curious sacrilegious eye, they vanish behind the silvery beeches, they make you believe that their voice was only a running brooklet, perhaps they metamorphose themselves into a tawny squirrel that scampers away and mocks you from the topmost bough. It was not a grove with measured grass or rolled gravel for you to tread upon, but ...
— Adam Bede • George Eliot
... flow, profluence[obs3]; effluence &c. (egress) 295; defluxion[obs3]; flowing &c. v.; current, tide, race, coulee. spring, artesian well, fount, fountain; rill, rivulet, gill, gullet, rillet[obs3]; streamlet, brooklet; branch [U.S.]; runnel, sike[obs3], burn, beck, creek, brook, bayou, stream, river; reach, tributary. geyser, spout, waterspout. body of water, torrent, rapids, flush, flood, swash; spring tide, high tide, full tide; bore, tidal bore, eagre[obs3], hygre[obs3]; fresh, ...
— Roget's Thesaurus
... dangers. A gentle breeze came down from the mountains behind him so that only his ears and his eyes were of value in detecting the presence of danger ahead. Generally the trail followed along the banks of the winding brooklet at the bottom of the gorge, but in some places where the waters tumbled over a precipitous ledge the trail made a detour along the side of the gorge, and again it wound in and out among rocky outcroppings, and presently where it rounded sharply the projecting ...
— Tarzan the Terrible • Edgar Rice Burroughs
... differently,—the gate is shut. The ruin on the right that stood. Lies on the left, and nigh the wood; The paddock fenced with wall of stone, Wcll-stock'd with kine, a mile hath flown, The sheepfold and the herd are gone. Through channels new the brooklet rushes, Its ancient course conceal'd by bushes. Where the hollow was, a mound Rises from the upheaved ground. Doubting, shouting with surprise, How the fool stares, and rubs his eyes! All's so changed, the simple ...
— The Lancashire Witches - A Romance of Pendle Forest • William Harrison Ainsworth
... the hard packed road. Here he noted the shimmering veil of ice over some brooklet waterfall in a cleft of the hill side. There the precise punctures of a rabbit track dotted the level snow of the woods. Beyond a herd of cattle standing placidly around a straw-stack blew clouds of vapor from their steaming nostrils. The silent beauty of the hills, glistening in their frosty covering, ...
— The Secret of the Storm Country • Grace Miller White
... golden melons of the papaia, ready for the eating, globuled directly from the slender-trunked trees not one-tenth the girth of the fruits they bore. And, for Jerry, most delightful of all, there was the gurgle and plash of a brooklet that pursued its invisible way over mossy stones under a garmenture of tender and delicate ferns. No conservatory of a king could compare with this wild wantonness of ...
— Jerry of the Islands • Jack London
... little persistent streams upon us. The chief of these streams, from the point of size, seemed consciously aiming at my ear. Thirce I turned over, shifted my position; thrice I was awakened by the sound of a merry brooklet pouring into that ...
— The River and I • John G. Neihardt
... spoke, drew up his horse, threw himself from his back, fastened him to a hanging branch, and, passing down to a hollow where a little brooklet ran trickling along with a gentle murmur, drank deeply of its sweet and quiet waters, which he scooped up with a calabash that hung ...
— The New McGuffey Fourth Reader • William H. McGuffey
... tell me, merry Brooklet, of a gentle Maid I seek, Thou'lt know her by the freshness of the rose upon her cheek; Her eyes are chaste and tender, and so serenely bright, You can read her heart's pure secrets by their ...
— Hesperus - and Other Poems and Lyrics • Charles Sangster
... of evil; Every word in perfect order, Makes no effort to remember, Sings the origin of iron, That a bolt he well may fashion, Thus prepare a look for surety, For the wounds the axe has given, That the hatchet has torn open. But the stream flows like a brooklet, Rushing like a maddened torrent, Stains the herbs upon the meadows, Scarcely is a bit of verdure That the blood-stream does not cover As it flows and rushes onward From the knee of the magician, From the veins of Wainamoinen. Now the wise and ancient minstrel Gathers lichens from the sandstone, ...
— The Kalevala (complete) • John Martin Crawford, trans.
... shy of mien and slight of frame. Like a laughing brook she skipped to and fro along the strand; He was grave, like nodding fern-leaf, gently by the breezes fanned, Which in silence, Pensive silence, Grows upon the brooklet's sand, ...
— Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science - April, 1873, Vol. XI, No. 25. • Various
... thou, mighty one! where'er the discord darkest frown, Thou call'st the meek harmonious peace, the god-like soother down. The noisy chase is lulled asleep, day's clamor dies afar, And through the sweet and veiled air in beauty comes the star. Soft-sighing through the crisped reeds, the brooklet glides along, And every wood the nightingale melodious fills with song. O virgin! now what instinct heaves thy bosom with the sigh? O youth! and wherefore steals the tear into thy dreaming eye? Alas! they seek in vain within ...
— The Works of Frederich Schiller in English • Frederich Schiller
... when the hay was down, Stood she by the brooklet, young and very fair, With the first white bindweed twisted in her hair— Hair that drooped like birch-boughs, all in her simple gown— That eve in high Midsummer, when ...
— The Home Book of Verse, Vol. 2 (of 4) • Various
... hitherto been Philippa's only idea of a bad temper: but he was a perpetual grumbler, and the slightest temporary discomfort or vexation would overcast her sky with conjugal clouds for the rest of the day. The least stone in his path was treated as a gigantic mountain; the narrowest brooklet as an unfathomable sea. And gradually—she scarcely knew how or when—the old weary discomfort crept back over Philippa's heart, the old unsatisfied longing for the love that no one gave. Her bower at Kilquyt was no more strewn with roses than her turret-chamber at ...
— The Well in the Desert - An Old Legend of the House of Arundel • Emily Sarah Holt
... sun was tempered by a breeze from the east, which threw across the fields and woods the shadows of the white fleecy clouds. The young man, pale and agitated, strode with feverish haste over the short-cropped grass, while the little brooklet at his side seemed to murmur a flute-like, soothing accompaniment to the tumultuous beatings of his heart. He was both elated and depressed at the prospect of submitting his already torn and lacerated feelings to so severe a trial. The thought of beholding Reine again, ...
— A Woodland Queen, Complete • Andre Theuriet
... grateful remembrance of their beauty. The laborer in the field hard by often came to visit her, and wet his honest, toil-browned brow with her cooling drops; and often, too, the laborer's daughter came at sunset time to sit by a mossy stone, with so lovely a face that the Brooklet, as she mirrored the features of the beautiful visitor, leaped about the ...
— The International Monthly, Volume 2, No. 4, March, 1851 • Various
... not believe that insanity lurked behind that laughing, level gaze of her carrier. She found herself continually forgetting that the man was mad. He had turned toward the bank now, and a couple of steps carried them to the low sward that fringed the little brooklet. Here he lowered her ...
— The Mad King • Edgar Rice Burroughs
... know. An exile on his rock, My father had a brooklet for his friend To drown the gaoler's voice, and that is why At Schoenbrunn, which is my Saint Helena, My soul must not be left deprived of comfort. Having the gaoler I've the ...
— L'Aiglon • Edmond Rostand
... hat, and, standing in silent awe, at last say, "The judgment throne of God." Far beyond it the silvery line of the Yosemite Creek reached the straight edge of the cliff and shot down twenty-six hundred feet. To the right, Bridal Veil Falls, a tiny brooklet it seemed in the distance, winding down a mountain meadow, looking frightened a moment at the edge of the cliff, leaping over into spray, caught up and transfigured by the afternoon sun, as it fell on the rocks hundreds of feet below. Beyond it, Cathedral Rocks, the Three Sisters and a mass of ...
— The Transformation of Job - A Tale of the High Sierras • Frederick Vining Fisher |
