"Garland" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... crushed her up in his arms close to his breast, and carried her to their own room with the golden and green chicks all round it, where the servants did not come without a summons. The garland she had twisted on her head smelt sweetly of roses, and the masses of her silky hair of sandal-wood; her soft lips, that knew so well instinctively the art of kissing, were on his; the warm, tender arms clasped his neck. All the way that he carried her she ...
— Six Women • Victoria Cross
... straw-ride. She had no parasol, and the sun beat upon her head, and the noise of the children got horribly on her nerves. Little Lucy was her one alleviation. Little Lucy sat in the midst of the boisterous throng, perfectly still, crowned with her garland of leaves and flowers, her sweet, pale little face calmly observant. She was the high light of Madame's school, the effect which made the whole. All the others looked at little Lucy, they talked to her, they ...
— The Copy-Cat and Other Stories • Mary E. Wilkins Freeman
... ever manifested towards her. After the lapse of long years, we find his heart still fresh and loving, pouring out upon the grave of his mother all the wealth of his rich mind and the affection of his chaste heart. He tells us that he had placed his poems upon her grave as a garland of affection. Oh! what a beautiful offering on the part of a gifted son to a devoted mother! Nature's richest and best gifts consecrated to nature's purest and holiest sentiments! May we not suppose that the endearing ...
— Poems: Patriotic, Religious, Miscellaneous • Abram J. Ryan, (Father Ryan)
... down and gathered roses white and red to make a garland for her hair, the sun broke through the mist and shone into the garden. Once more she raised her eyes to the tower. This time she did not look at it, but at the sunlit clouds beyond. The light from the east fell on her. Her hair shone like gold, and her ...
— Young Folks Treasury, Volume 3 (of 12) - Classic Tales And Old-Fashioned Stories • Various
... vassals, row, for the pride of the highlands! Stretch to your oars, for the ever-green Pine! 430 O that the rose-bud that graces yon islands, Were wreathed in a garland around him to twine! O that some seedling gem, Worthy such noble stem, Honored and blest in their shadow might grow; Loud should Clan-Alpine then Ring from her deepmost glen, "Roderigh Vich Alpine ...
— Lady of the Lake • Sir Walter Scott
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