Boughs

Examples

• When D'Arnot regained consciousness, he found himself lying upon a bed of soft ferns and grasses beneath a little A shaped shelter of boughs. Edgar Rice Burroughs. Tarzan of the Apes.
• Lunch was served on the lawn, under the great tree, whose thick, blackish boughs came down close to the grass. D. H. Lawrence. Women in Love .
• Perhaps there would be rude wind shelters of boughs on one side of the encampment. H. G. Wells. The Outline of History_Being a Plain History of Life and Mankind.
• I saw her through a space in the boughs overhead. Charlotte Bronte. Villette.
• He smelled the odor of the pine boughs under him, the piney smell of the crushed needles and the sharper odor of the resinous sap from the cut limbs. Hemingway, Ernest. For Whom The Bell Tolls.
• Loaves stuck on the points of bayonets, green boughs stuck in gun-barrels. H. G. Wells. The Outline of History_Being a Plain History of Life and Mankind.
• The trunks remain still and firm as pillars, while the boughs sway to every breeze. Charlotte Bronte. Shirley.
• She stood quietly near the window, looking at the grand cedar on her lawn watching a bird on one of its lower boughs. Charlotte Bronte. Shirley.
• As he approached the window nearest the door he saw that the cabin had been divided into two rooms by a rough partition of boughs and sailcloth. Edgar Rice Burroughs. Tarzan of the Apes.
• Through the boughs of the long avenue beyond the gardens she caught the flash of wheels, and divined that more visitors were approaching. Edith Wharton. The House of Mirth.
• The wide old chimney contained now no fire, for the present warm weather needed it not; it was filled instead with willow-boughs. Charlotte Bronte. Shirley.
• Under its dense, raven boughs a glimpse of sky opened gravely blue. Charlotte Bronte. Shirley.
• The oak roots, turfed and mossed, gave a seat; the oak boughs, thick-leaved, wove a canopy. Charlotte Bronte. Shirley.
• But in this mortal life extremes are always matched; the thorn grows with the rose, the poison tree and the cinnamon mingle their boughs. Mary Shelley. The Last Man.
• The green woods waved their boughs majestically, while the dying were spread beneath their shade, answering the solemn melody with inharmonious cries. Mary Shelley. The Last Man.

Edited by Davy