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Lady's bower   Listen
noun
Lady's bower  n.  (Bot.) A climbing plant with fragrant blossoms (Clematis vitalba). Note: This term is sometimes applied to other plants of the same genus.






Collaborative International Dictionary of English 0.48








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"Lady's bower" Quotes from Famous Books



... which overawed every rude beholder—into these rude and noisy halls, with so many graceful ways and beautiful garments and sparkling jewels, transforming the very chambers with embroidered hangings and all the rare embellishments of a lady's bower, with which no doubt the ship had been provided, and which mediaeval princesses, like modern fine ladies, carried about with them—the middle-aged man of war was evidently altogether subdued and enraptured. To see her absorbed in prayer—an exercise which Malcolm had ...
— Royal Edinburgh - Her Saints, Kings, Prophets and Poets • Margaret Oliphant

... of knightly fame, From Palestine the champion came; The cross upon his shoulders borne, Battle and blast had dimm'd and torn. Each dint upon his batter'd shield Was token of a foughten field; And thus, beneath his lady's bower, He sung as fell ...
— Ivanhoe - A Romance • Walter Scott

... westward bore, And when the storm was o'er, Cloud-like we saw the shore Stretching to leeward; There for my lady's bower Built I the lofty tower, Which, to this very ...
— The Complete Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow • Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

... padre alone are left at Lagunitas. The roses fall unheeded in the dead lady's bower. On this visit, when Hardin takes the child to the mansion on the hill, he learns the padre only awaits the return of Maxime Valois, to retire to France. Unaware of the great strength of the North and East, the padre feels the land may ...
— The Little Lady of Lagunitas • Richard Henry Savage

... soldiers as they trod by the side of the victim; but most of the spectators, especially the females, were melted into tears when they beheld the fine manly form of the prisoner, which seemed better fitted to adorn the royal levee, or a lady's bower, than for the melancholy fate to which he was about to be consigned. His head was bare, and his light flaxen hair fell in a rich profusion of locks down his shoulders, but left unshaded his finely-proportioned ...
— The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction, Vol. 10, - Issue 284, November 24, 1827 • Various

... lady's bower is gone: "A boon I crave from thee, Deny me not, thou lady bright," And he bent ...
— Traditions of Lancashire, Volume 2 (of 2) • John Roby

... and fluted, and of a chaste and penetrating fragrance, hung singly and in clusters on the pillars of the dwellings, on the barracks and chapel, from the very roofs; bloomed upon bushes as high as young trees. The Presidio was as delicately perfumed as a lady's bower, and its cannon faced the ever-changing hues of water and island ...
— Rezanov • Gertrude Atherton

... But it was Trina's room. McTeague was in his lady's bower; it seemed to him a little nest, intimate, discreet. He felt hideously out of place. He was an intruder; he, with his enormous feet, his colossal bones, his crude, brutal gestures. The mere weight of his ...
— McTeague • Frank Norris

... shaft; the doors and windows of old pleasure rooms are hung with ivy and wild fig tapestry; while winding staircases start midway upon the cliff and lead to vacancy. High overhead, suspended in mid-air, hang chambers—lady's bower or poet's singing room—now inaccessible, the haunt of hawks and swallows. Within this rocky honeycomb— "cette ville en monolithe," as it has been aptly called, for it is literally scooped out of one mountain block—live a few poor people, foddering their wretched ...
— The South of France—East Half • Charles Bertram Black

... grows by the fainting flower, And springs in the shade of the lady's bower; The lily shrinks, and the rose turns pale, When they feel its breath in the summer gale, And the tulip curls its leaves in pride, And the blue-eyed violet starts aside; But the lily may flaunt, and the tulip stare, For what does the honest toadstool care? She does not glow in a painted vest, ...
— The Poetical Works of Oliver Wendell Holmes, Complete • Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

... soul of the sixteenth century, already devoid of reserve; the sanctuary, too brightly lighted, was secularized; we here see it fully blown, and it never folded up or veiled itself again. We discern in this a lady's bower, all paint and gold; the little chapels (or pews) with chimney-places where Margaret of Austria could warm herself as she heard Mass, furnished with scented cushions, provided with ...
— The Cathedral • Joris-Karl Huysmans

... mistress of the robes, she took her departure, leaving Adrian smiling with amusement at her specious manner of announcing that his own bedroom—the only one available for the purpose in the ruins—was being duly converted into a lady's bower. ...
— The Light of Scarthey • Egerton Castle

... with a sober grandeur, in perfect tone with its architecture. Everything was solid and ponderous, save here and there, where in some lady's bower there appeared the spindle-legged tables and inlaid cabinets of the Chippendale period, which had an air of newness where all else was so old. The upper rooms were low and somewhat dark, the heavily mullioned windows being ...
— The Golden Calf • M. E. Braddon

... half-rustic men belonging to the surrounding gentry and nobility of Derbyshire, Nottingham, and Stafford. She had met but few even of them, and their lives had been spent chiefly in drinking, hunting, and gambling—accomplishments that do not fine down the texture of a man's nature or fit him for a lady's bower. Sir John Manners was a revelation to Dorothy; and she, poor girl, was bewildered and bewitched ...
— Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall • Charles Major

... its shady nook, Like lady's bower shadowed o'er— With clustering trees—and creeping plants That cling around the rustic door, The rough hewn steps that lend their aid To reach the shady cool recess, Where humble duty spreads a scene That hourly comfort learns ...
— Graham's Magazine Vol XXXIII No. 3 September 1848 • Various

... you mean is it? There's a whole troop of wenches at the high table in hall. They came after us with the Duchess as soon as we were settled in Trim Castle, but they are kept as demure and mim as may be in my lady's bower; and there's a pretty sharp eye kept on them. Some of the young squires who are fools enough to hanker after a few maids or look at the fairer ones get their noses wellnigh pinched off by Proud Cis's Mother ...
— Grisly Grisell • Charlotte M. Yonge



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