The Butterflies of the Eastern United States and Canada: With Special Reference to New England, 1. köide

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Page 260 - Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, Not light them for themselves ; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely...
Page 378 - One evening, when we were about ten miles from the Bay of San Bias, vast numbers of butterflies, in bands or flocks of countless myriads, extended as far as the eye could range. Even by the aid of a telescope it was not possible to see a space free from butterflies. The seamen cried out " it was snowing butterflies," and such in fact was the apjxarance.
Page 496 - Self-poised upon that yellow flower ; And, little Butterfly ! indeed I know not if you sleep or feed. How motionless ! — not frozen seas More motionless ! and then What joy awaits you, when the breeze Hath found you out among the trees, And calls you forth again ! This plot of Orchard-ground is ours ; My trees they are, my Sister's flowers ; Here rest your wings when they are weary ; Here lodge as in a sanctuary ! Come often to us, fear no wrong...
Page 716 - The jewelled butterflies ; till everywhere Each slew a slayer and in turn was slain, Life living upon death. So the fair show Veiled one vast, savage, grim conspiracy Of mutual murder, from the worm to man, Who himself kills his fellow...
Page 538 - Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him. Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue, Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew: Nor did...
Page 603 - What more felicitie can fall to creature Than to enjoy delight with libertie, And to be lord of all the workes of Nature, To raine in th...
Page 714 - I had an opportunity of proving in Brazil that some birds, if not all, reject the Heliconii butterflies, which are closely resembled by butterflies of other families and by moths. I observed a pair of birds that were bringing butterflies and...
Page 190 - I'D be a Butterfly born in a bower, Where roses and lilies and violets meet; Roving for ever from flower to flower, And kissing all buds that are pretty and sweet! I'd never languish for wealth, or for power, I'd never sigh to see slaves at my feet: I'd be a Butterfly born in a bower, Kissing all buds that are pretty and sweet.
Page 73 - Here on earth they bore their fruitage, mirth and folly were the crop: What of soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?
Page 713 - ... upon beholding some insects, that they had robbed the trees of their leaves to form for themselves artificial wings, so exactly do they resemble them in their form, substance, and vascular structure ; some representing green leaves, and others those that are dry and withered. Nay, sometimes this mimicry is so exquisite that you would mistake the whole insect for a portion of the branching spray of a tree.