Thomson, the poet, was so lazy that he used to eat peaches off the trees, standing with his hands contentedly plunged in his pockets.
Would not the weather hang itself in despair if no notice were taken of it, and if every man, woman, and child forbore to speak of it for three successive days?
"Frostling" used to signify a bough, blossom, or fruit nipped by the cold; and "windling" one blown from its natural support; two sweet and expressive words, now obsolete and without synonymes. It is hard to account for their being left behind in the race for the development of our English.
W., whose beliefs are quite fixed, vacillates nobly in matters of opinion. In a group of debaters he holds with no one long, but must needs jump at a conclusion so liberal and sure that it reconciles all hostilities.
All lovers are bewitched, steeped in illusions, versed in the oracles,—the riddle themselves of the whole world.