On either bank, the blades of grass, making their last autumn growth, pricked their spears and crisped their tuftings with the pearly purity.
"Lorna Doone, A Romance of Exmoor" by R. D. Blackmore
I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
"Leaves of Grass" by Walt Whitman
Besides the spear and decorated shield, some of them carried the curious small grass spears.
"The Land of Footprints" by Stewart Edward White
There had been a soft rain in the night and every spear of grass was brilliantly green and tipped with crystal.
"The Story Of Waitstill Baxter" by By Kate Douglas Wiggin
They did excellent scouting work in the long grass, rushing ahead with their spears poised.
"Wanderings Among South Sea Savages And in Borneo and the Philippines" by H. Wilfrid Walker
Some of the ground was very scrubby and boggy, and better, though not well grassed, too much spear grass occuring.
"The Overland Expedition of The Messrs. Jardine" by Frank Jardine and Alexander Jardine
About them was no bush, no undergrowth; under their feet was not a flower or a spear of grass.
"Nomads of the North" by James Oliver Curwood
Its type is the first spear of grass.
"Birds and Poets" by John Burroughs
Hard wood spear, grass-tree end, barbed with flint, used with the throwing-stick for war.
"Journals Of Expeditions Of Discovery Into Central Australia And Overland" by Edward John Eyre
She picked a long spear of grass from the turf before her, twisted it absently in her fingers, then turned to him slowly.
"The Gentleman From Indiana" by Booth Tarkington
The golden water sweet and cold,
The moon of silver and of gold,
The dew upon the gray grass-spears,
I shall remember them with tears.
"Farewell" by Katharine Tynan
The moon-blanched fields that seaward went,
The palm-flung, dusky shades,
Bore flowering grasses, knotted, bent,
No slender, spear-like blades.
"Songs of the Spring Nights" by George MacDonald
The green moss shines with icey glare,
The long grass bends its spear-like form,
And lovely is the silvery scene
When faint the sunbeams smile.
"Ode Written On The First Of December" by Robert Southey
Silver triumphant the snowdrop swings
Banners that mock at defeated kings;
And wherever the green of the new grass peers,
See the array of victorious spears.
"The Champion" by Edith Nesbit
His spear leaned against the mossy rock.
His shield lay by him on the grass.
Whilst he thought on the mighty Carbre
whom he slew in battle, the scout of
the ocean came, Moran the son of Fithil.
"Fragment XIII" by James Macpherson
The wallaroos grope through the tufts of the grass,
And turn to their coverts for fear;
But he sits in the ashes and lets them pass
Where the boomerangs sleep with the spear -
With the nullah, the sling and the spear.
"The Last Of His Tribe" by Henry Kendall