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you will find to your left an area where different types of pear tree have been planted as well as some lovely flowers

Neither the flowers nor the earth showed any sign of having been disturbed nor were there any marks upon the narrow strip of grass which separated the house from the road

He had no watch but it could not be fifteen hours yet so he started to pick flowers

He followed carrying his flowers feeling that he was not good enough for her

His flowers had fallen to the ground

The girl sat up and pulled a flower out of her hair

And around to the west, you can relax and sit on a bench to smell the flowers in the rose garden

Next morning the spring flowers were all hidden under deep snow

As I came close to the old house, I noticed that there were flowers in the garden, and the doors and windows stood open

We wanted to plant some flowers there

While there was fear and death inside the school, the sun shone on the flowers outside, and on the flowing streams in the valleys.

So she lay on the floor and looked through the open door, into a beautiful garden with green trees and bright flowers.

She ran and ran but could not see a house anywhere, so she sat down under a flower to rest.

Alice looked all around her at the flowers and the trees, but she could not see anything to eat.

When she was down to about thirty centimetres high, she walked through the door, and then, at last, she was in the beautiful garden with its green trees and bright flowers.

On the table in front of it, there was a dead flower.

He looked at the picture for a minute, and then put it by a flower on the table.

He put the flower on the picture and looked at it carefully.

The Queen gave him a little book, and some red flowers, before she left.

He looked at the flowers carefully, and put them on his table.

I am going to put some flowers from the country in this letter.

There are hundreds of flowers here. Did you know that?

Little flowers are very thirsty, you know!

It wore a short, white robe, covered with both summer and winter flowers.

To lie in an empty room, with no candles or flowers, and robbed of his clothes!

The trees and flowers grew near to the drive and grass almost covered it.

We shall never again stand in the Happy Valley and smell the scent of its flowers.

As I picked up the menu, I knocked over the flowers on the table.

He told me about the gardens and the flowers in the woods. He told me about the sea.

This little valley, hidden away from the world, was full of the scent of flowers.

Beautiful high bushes covered with bright red flowers stood on either side of us.

Flowers filled the room, glowing blood, red flowers.

They were the same flowers we had seen in the drive.

We walked on last year's leaves. The green shoots of flowers were beginning to show through.

You can smell the flowers already. Never mind the rain, it will bring out the scent.

On either side of the narrow path stood high graceful bushes covered with flowers.

The flowers were pink, white and gold. They were things of beauty and grace.

We stood still, not speaking. I looked down at the clear white flowers. Maxim picked up a fallen flower and gave it to me.

Suddenly I knew. The scent on the handkerchief was the scent of the flowers in the Happy Valley.

And there was dancing, and music and flowers everywhere.

There were flowers on the dressing table and on the table beside the bed.

It was cold and smelt of the flowers in the Happy Valley.

There were flowers everywhere.

The fireworks rose into the sky and turned into stars and flowers. The sky was red and gold.

The rooms were clean and tidy. The flowers had gone.

I took the letters into the morning room. To my surprise, the room was dusty and untidy. The windows were tightly closed and some of the flowers were dead.

As I began to arrange the flowers, there was a knock at the door. It was Mrs Danvers, holding the menu in her hand.

The flowers would come every year, the birds would sing.

As he moved in the direction of the sitting room, despite the caution with which he advanced, running a hesitant hand along the wall and not anticipating any obstacles, he sent a vase of flowers crashing to the floor.

He tried to gather up the flowers, never thinking of the broken glass,

Still clutching the flowers and feeling the blood running down, he twisted round to get the handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it round his finger as best he could.

He sat down, rested the flowers on his lap, and, with the utmost care, unrolled the handkerchief.

What am I doing here with these flowers on my lap and my eyes closed as if I were afraid of opening them,

What are you doing there, sleeping with those flowers on your lap, his wife was asking him.

The flowers had slipped onto the floor, onto the bloodstained handkerchief, the blood had started to trickle again from the injured finger,

When that time comes, go to the men s houses in the village and take some of their Red Flower.

The Red Flower was fire. All animals are afraid of it and do not call it by its name.

I am a man, and to show you, I have brought the Red Flower with me.

You burnt his coat with the Red Flower.

Very good, said Mowgli. Tell me when he comes. Meet me at the river, by the big dhak tree with golden flowers.

In the south eastern corner, beyond the marsh, is our Market Garden area, growing vegetables and flowers.

When the European Honey Bee was first discovered out in the bush we found they made really unpleasant honey and they were also too big to pollinate many of our native flowers here in Australia.

We could lose a lot of money because you might not be aware, but it's estimated that native bees pollination of flower and vegetable crops is worth 1. 2 billion dollars a year.

Relieved, the boy picked up the spoon and returned to his exploration of the palace, this time observing all of the works of art on the ceilings and the walls. He saw the gardens, the mountains all around him, the beauty of the flowers, and the taste with which everything had been selected.

And if you just want to sit and relax, you can go to the flower garden: that's the circular area on the map surrounded by paths.

Bees are in the flowers, growing in the graveyard, And over the hill, where the river meets the mill,

Dressed in simple white and wearing flowers in her hair, Music as she walks slowly to the altar,

Within sounded a psalm; a coffin, decked with flowers, was borne forth.

High up in the clear, pure air flew an angel, with a flower plucked from the garden of heaven.

As he was kissing the flower a very little leaf fell from it and sunk down into the soft earth in the middle of a wood.

and the flowers glittered and sparkled in the sunshine like colored flames, and the harmony of sweet sounds lingered round them as if each concealed within itself a deep fount of melody, which thousands of years could not exhaust.

With pious gratitude the girl looked upon this glorious work of God, and bent down over one of the branches, that she might examine the flower and inhale the sweet perfume.

Gladly would she have plucked a flower, but she could not overcome her reluctance to break one off.

And the black forest snails actually spat at the flower.

The messenger described the flower so that is appearance could not be mistaken.

There it was so beautifully full of flowers and of the freshest grass;

There was a little flower garden with painted wooden palings in front of it;

the sun shone as warmly and brightly upon it as on the magnificent garden flowers, and therefore it thrived well.

It did not mind that nobody saw it in the grass, and that it was a poor despised flower;

In the garden close by grew many large and magnificent flowers, and, strange to say, the less fragrance they had the haughtier and prouder they were.

How beautifully soft the grass is, and what a lovely little flower with its golden heart and silver dress is growing here.

Half ashamed, yet glad at heart, it looked over to the other flowers in the garden;

The little flower could very well see that they were ill at ease, and pitied them sincerely.

The daisy was glad that it was outside, and only a small flower it felt very grateful.

On the following morning, when the flower once more stretched forth its tender petals, like little arms, towards the air and light,

Indeed, that was very difficult for such a small flower to find out.

Pluck the flower off, said the other boy, and the daisy trembled for fear, for to be pulled off meant death to it;

You must also fade in here, poor little flower.

Each little blade of grass shall be a green tree for me, each of your white petals a fragrant flower.

It could not move one of its leaves, but the fragrance of its delicate petals streamed forth, and was much stronger than such flowers usually have

the bird noticed it, although it was dying with thirst, and in its pain tore up the green blades of grass, but did not touch the flower.

Tweet, tweet, was all it could utter, then it bent its little head towards the flower, and its heart broke for want and longing.

The flower could not, as on the previous evening, fold up its petals and sleep; it dropped sorrowfully.

when they saw the dead bird, they began to cry bitterly, dug a nice grave for it, and adorned it with flowers.

While it was alive and sang they forgot it, and let it suffer want in the cage; now, they cried over it and covered it with flowers.

Nobody thought of the flower which had felt so much for the bird and had so greatly desired to comfort it.

Then he gathers a large handful of flowers, which he carries up to the Almighty, that they may bloom more brightly in heaven than they do on earth.

And the Almighty presses the flowers to His heart, but He kisses the flower that pleases Him best,

Then they passed over well known spots, where the little one had often played, and through beautiful gardens full of lovely flowers.

The angel gathered also some beautiful flowers, as well as a few humble buttercups and heart's ease.

Now we have flowers enough, said the child; but the angel only nodded, he did not fly upward to heaven.

Amidst all this confusion, the angel pointed to the pieces of a broken flower pot, and to a lump of earth which had fallen out of it.

The earth had been kept from falling to pieces by the roots of a withered field flower, which had been thrown amongst the rubbish.

One spring day the neighbor's boy brought him some field flowers,

This he carefully planted in a flower pot, and placed in a window seat near his bed.

And the flower had been planted by a fortunate hand, for it grew, put forth fresh shoots, and blossomed every year.

It became a splendid flower garden to the sick boy, and his little treasure upon earth.

The flower entwined itself even in his dreams for him it bloomed, for him spread its perfume.

And it gladdened his eyes, and to the flower he turned, even in death, when the Lord called him.

He has been one year with God. During that time the flower has stood in the window,

And this poor flower, withered and faded as it is, we have added to our nosegay,

because it gave more real joy than the most beautiful flower in the garden of a queen.

I know it, said the angel, because I myself was the poor sick boy who walked upon crutches, and I know my own flower well.

Then the Almighty pressed all the flowers to His heart;

but He kissed the withered field flower, and it received a voice.

They all joined in the chorus of praise, both great and small, the good, happy child, and the poor field flower, that once lay withered and cast away on a heap of rubbish in a narrow, dark street.

and I am much handsomer; my flowers are as beautiful as the bloom of the apple blossom, and it is a pleasure to look at us.

All the field flowers folded their leaves together, or bowed their little heads, while the storm passed over them,

Bend your head as we do, said the flowers.

Close your flowers and bend your leaves, said the old willow tree.

When the dreadful storm had passed, the flowers and the corn raised their drooping heads in the pure still air,

Do you not smell the sweet perfume from flower and bush? Wherefore do you weep, old willow tree?

some with pretty flowers and bowers like little dollspleasure grounds,

During the whole day he enjoyed himself in the warm sunshine, flew from flower to flower, and danced on the wings of the flying butterflies.

And then they kissed each other, and the girl wept, and gave him a rose; but before she did so, she pressed a kiss upon it so fervently that the flower opened.

The young man took it out as he walked through the dark wood alone, and kissed the flower so often and so violently, that the little elf was almost crushed.

The window stood open the whole day, and the little elf could easily have reached the roses, or any of the flowers;

He seated himself in one of the flowers, and gazed on the poor girl.

As soon as she was in her room, she took the largest flower pot she could find,

Every morning he flew to the window of the poor girl, and always found her weeping by the flower pot.

He could not imagine why she was weeping over that flower pot, and it annoyed him.

And one day she sat and leaned her head against the flower pot, the little elf of the rose found her asleep.

The little elf of the rose followed it, and flew from flower to flower,

We know it, said each little spirit in the flowers, we know it, for have we not sprung from the eyes and lips of the murdered one.

We know it, we know it, and the flowers nodded with their heads in a peculiar manner.

close to where he had placed the fragrant jasmine, every flower cup opened, and invisibly the little spirits stole out, armed with poisonous spears.

Now have we revenged the dead, said they, and flew back into the white bells of the jasmine flowers.

And the elf of the rose understood the revenge of the flowers, and explained it to the queen bee,

and she, with the whole swarm, buzzed about the flower pot. The bees could not be driven away.

Then a man took it up to remove it, and one of the bees stung him in the hand, so that he let the flower pot fall, and it was broken to pieces.

And the queen bee hummed in the air, and sang of the revenge of the flowers,

and then he flew for a short distance, till he found himself in a beautiful flower garden, all fragrant with roses and lavender.

and beneath them what a profusion of luxuriant green, and of flowers red like flame, yellow as amber, or white as new fallen snow!

Now really here is a flower coming, said the old woman one morning, and now at last she began to encourage the hope that her sick daughter might really recover.

and she smiled at the flower, as if it had been an angel from God.

It knew that it should never again see its dear old companions, the trees, nor the little bushes and many colored flowers that had grown by its side; perhaps not even the birds.

And the tree saw all the fresh bright flowers in the garden,

There was once a butterfly who wished for a bride, and, as may be supposed, he wanted to choose a very pretty one from among the flowers.

He glanced, with a very critical eye, at all the flower beds,

and found that the flowers were seated quietly and demurely on their stalks,

The French call this flower Marguerite, and they say that the little daisy can prophesy.

Darling Marguerite daisy, he said to her, you are the wisest woman of all the flowers.

Pray tell me which of the flowers I shall choose for my wife. Which will be my bride?

He was just about to make her an offer, when, close by the maiden, he saw a pod, with a withered flower hanging at the end.

The flowers now appeared in their most gorgeous robes, but all in vain; they had not the fresh, fragrant air of youth.

full of fragrance from head to foot, with the scent of a flower in every leaf.

But it is not enough merely to exist, said he, I need freedom, sunshine, and a little flower for companion.

Now I am perched on a stalk, like the flowers, said the butterfly.

You've got to get the flowers right. Oh, there's so much to think about makes you think that marriage might be flawed