"Mow" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... the North Sea and the English Channel they are supported by fleets of battleships, cruisers, submarines, and torpedo boat destroyers that occasionally "scrap" with each other, the German boats now and then attacking the English coast and harbors and the English boats now and then assisting to mow down the German troops when they approach too near the coast. But the great dread and key to this naval ...
— The Audacious War • Clarence W. Barron
... gorgeous standard rears! The red-cross squadrons madly rage, [Footnote 19] And mow thro' infancy and age: Then kiss the sacred dust and melt in tears. Veiling from the eye of day, Penance dreams her life away; In cloister'd solitude she sits and sighs, While from each shrine still, small responses rise. Hear, with what heart-felt beat, the ...
— Poems • Samuel Rogers
... that eastward takes his way, has come and gone again in my time. The bank-swallows, wellnigh innumerable during my boyhood, no longer frequent the crumbly cliff of the gravel-pit by the river. The barn-swallows, which once swarmed in our barn, flashing through the dusty sun-streak of the mow, have been gone these many years. My father would lead me out to see them gather on the roof, and take counsel before their yearly migration, as Mr. White used to see them at Selborne. Eheu fugaces! Thank ...
— My Garden Acquaintance • James Russell Lowell
... all things considered, that the worst change is the education business, so far as the strength and the health of the country goes. That, and machine work. When I was a youngster, nearly every field-hand knew how to mow,—now we've trouble enough to find an extra man who can use a scythe. And you may put a machine on the grass as much as you like, you'll never get the quality that you'll get with a well-curved blade and a man's arm and hand wielding it. ...
— Innocent - Her Fancy and His Fact • Marie Corelli
... breeze sweeps over the trees, and the mists lie low on the fen, From grey tombstones are gathered the bones that once were women and men, And away they go, with a mop and a mow, to the revel that ends too soon, For cockcrow limits our holiday - the dead ...
— Songs of a Savoyard • W. S. Gilbert
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