Word: sweete
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Unfortunately, various people of unwelcome experience with the Skunk family--those gauche Skunks, you know, my dear--have wailed long and loudly about the rights of other citizens to remain sweet-smelling. Farmers complain that skunks dig up bumble bees and not only make them so ill-tempered that they attack without warning, but destroy them as well, preventing the pollenization of the clover. Against such charges, even the skunks retire in confusion...
...Camp and the Downs, Dorchester with its lovely Abbey-church, lie in one direction; in another is Minster Lovell, on the way to the Cotswolds and those charming hidden villages of the Stone Country; in another direction, past Old Marston, where Cromwell planned his campaign against Oxford, is as sweet a village as any in England. Wood Eaton, sleeping beside a little stream that winds in and out of coppices and fields; and going farther in this direction one comes to Islip, Noke, the grand sweep of Otmoor, and the leafy vale of the Thame. Going north from Oxford...
...realization. For it is in Trinity Term that Oxford blooms with unbelievable richness. She is most easily appreciated then set in the rich green of meadows and fields by two beautiful rivers, now covered with punts and canoes; old trees line the roads and walks, the air is sweet and clear and fresh, and the Colleges sparkle in the sunshine. It is now that one knows the High is the finest street in Europe, and that Troy could never have been more beautiful than this old city and its ancient University
Robert Cecil. ". . . his presence was sweet and grave. . . . He was all mild reasonableness-or so it appeared, until he left his chair, stood up, and unexpectedly revealed the stunted discomfort of deformity. Then another impression came upon one-the uneasiness produced by an enigma: what could the combination of that beautifully explicit countenance with that shameful, crooked posture really betoken? He returned to the table, and once more took up his quill; all, once more, was perspicuous serenity...
...custom of singing carols had a definite Christian origin. Early Franciscan friars, strolling through Italy, put the tale of the birth of the Babe into homely ballad form, the better to win simple hearts. Over the Alps they went, throughout the World, singing of the sweet mystery of Bethlehem. Their songs lingered behind them. The Spanish peasant added episodes out of his dark Moorish imagination. In one group of Spanish carols the three wise men become gypsies, who read the palms and tell the fortunes of Jesus, Mary, Joseph. In Germany an ancient custom still endures, in some old-world...