Zoologist: A Monthly Journal of Natural History

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Page 534 - This guest of summer, The temple-haunting. martlet, does approve, By his lov'd mansionry, that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here : no jutty, frieze, Buttress, nor coigne of vantage, but this bird Hath made his pendent bed, and procreant cradle : Where they most breed and haunt, I have observ'd, The air is delicate.
Page 516 - If thou art worn and hard beset With sorrows, that thou wouldst forget, If thou wouldst read a lesson, that will keep Thy heart from fainting and thy soul from sleep, Go to the woods and hills! — No tears Dim the sweet look that Nature wears.
Page 561 - Oft in the barns they climbed to the populous nests on the rafters, Seeking with eager eyes that wondrous stone, which the swallow Brings from the shore of the sea to restore the sight of its fledglings ; Lucky was he who found that stone in the nest of the swallow ! Thus passed a few swift years, and they no longer were children.
Page 661 - When it is perfectly formed, the shell gapeth open, and the first thing that appeareth is the foresaid lace or string ; next come the legs of the bird hanging out, and as it groweth greater, it openeth the shell by degrees, till at length it is all come forth, and hangeth only by the bill. In short space after it cometh to full maturity, and falleth into the sea...
Page 661 - Lancashire call by no other name than a tree goose, which place aforesaid, and all those parts adjoining, do so much abound therewith, that one of the best is bought for threepence. For the truth hereof, if any doubt, may it please them to repair unto me, and I shall satisfie them by the testimonie of good witnesses*.
Page 531 - When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, And maidens bleach their summer smocks, The cuckoo then on every tree, Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo; Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear!
Page 931 - And he took unto him all these, and divided them in the midst, and laid each piece one against another : but the birds divided he not.
Page 655 - I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw.
Page 931 - O ye that dwell in Moab, leave the cities, and dwell in the rock, and be like the dove that maketh her nest in the sides of the hole's mouth.
Page 661 - But what our eyes have seen and our hands have touched" continues the Author, doubtless with full sincerity, " we shall declare. There is a small island in Lancashire called the Pile of Foulders...

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