COLLECTION OF
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THE MOST EXTENSIVE COLLECTION OF QUOTATIONS ON THE INTERNET |
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Pale, mournful flower, that hidest in shade Mild dewy damps and murky glade, With moss and mould, Why dost thou hand thy ghastly head, So sad and cold? - Catharine Esther Beecher, To the Monotropa, or Ghost Flower Where the long, slant rays are beaming, Where the shadows cool lie dreaming, Pale the Indian pipes are gleaming-- Laugh, O murmuring Spring! - Sarah Foster Davis, Summer Song I hear, I hear The twang of harps, the leap Of fairy feet and know the revel's ripe, While like a coral stripe The lizard cool doth creep, Monster, but monarch there, up the pale Indian Pipe. - Charles DeKay, Arcana Sylvarum Death in the wood,-- In the death-pale lips apart; Death in a whiteness that curdled the blood, Now black to the very heart: The wonder by her was formed Who stands supreme in power; To show that life by the spirit comes She gave up a soulless flower! - Elaine Goodale (Mrs. Charles A. Eastman), Indian Pipe (st. 4)
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