"Brine" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... 25 To bear the playful billows' game. So each good ship was rude to see, Rude and bare to the outward view, But each upbore a stately tent Where cedar pales in scented row 30 Kept out the flakes of the dancing brine, And an awning drooped the mast below, In fold on fold of the purple fine, That neither noontide nor starshine Nor moonlight cold which maketh mad, 35 Might pierce the regal tenement. When the sun dawned, oh, gay and glad We set the sail and plied the oar; But when the night-wind blew like breath, ...
— Selections from the Poems and Plays of Robert Browning • Robert Browning
... had invited to an excursion over the Ventoux Alp; where he seems expressly to have commanded "that all should come in shoals." What a tinkling of bottles, what piles of bread! There are green olives "flowing with brine," black olives "seasoned with oil," sausages of Arles "with rosy flesh, marbled with cubes of fat and whole peppercorns," legs of mutton stuffed with garlic "to dull the keen edge of hunger"; chickens "to amuse the molars"; melons of Cavaillon ...
— Fabre, Poet of Science • Dr. G.V. (C.V.) Legros
... as one of the enormous American inland seas to a lover of the ocean, to whom the salt brine is as the breath of delight. The fatal facility of the heroic couplet to lapse into diffuseness, has, coupled with a warped anxiety for irreducible concision, been ...
— Life of Robert Browning • William Sharp
... into three broad channels. La Salle followed that of the west, and D'Autray that of the east; while Tonty took the middle passage. As he drifted down the turbid current, between the low and marshy shores, the brackish water changed to brine, and the breeze grew fresh with the salt breath of the sea. Then the broad bosom of the great Gulf opened on his sight, tossing its restless billows, limitless, voiceless, lonely, as when born of chaos, without a sail, without a ...
— France and England in North America, a Series of Historical Narratives, Part Third • Francis Parkman
... globes sent forth their branching light: And longer had he gaz'd, but sleep profound, Wrought by the friendly fairy, wrapt him round. Stretch'd on the couch the hunter lies supine, And the swift bark shoots lightly o'er the brine. For, where the distant prospect fading dies, And sea and land seem mingling with the skies, A massy tower of polish'd marble rose; There dwelt the fair physician of his woes: Nogiva was the name the princess bore; Her spouse old, shrewd, suspicious evermore, ...
— The Lay of Marie • Matilda Betham
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