The Nettles, Thistles, and Furze were very troublesome.
"Forgotten Tales of Long Ago" by E. V. Lucas
Allan and those in front had fired the dry furze and grasses, and the smoke began to roll heavily against the faces of the soldiers.
"Robin Hood" by Paul Creswick
The bare, thick stems of the furze held it up like a roof over their heads as they sat.
"Harding's luck" by E. [Edith] Nesbit
Luckily, we never tried whins, or furze, as here called.
"Brighter Britain! (Volume 1 of 2)" by William Delisle Hay
At one time, Brock met a young male badger in the furze, attacked him vigorously, and left him more dead than alive.
"Creatures of the Night" by Alfred W. Rees
The sloe-thorn, and the furze, and the bramble choked up the rails.
"Leading Articles on Various Subjects" by Hugh Miller
Their slopes are of turf and furze, often as steep as the pitched roof of a house, with crags projecting here and there.
"England, Picturesque and Descriptive" by Joel Cook
The sides of the old moat were overgrown with furze and brambles, and we stole into this cover as they approached.
"Tales from Blackwood, Volume 7" by Various
In vain: the ground was broken and stony, but there grew not there so much as a bush of furze.
"The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition Vol. 20 (of 25)" by Robert Louis Stevenson
They must have missed us and gone round by Furze Heath.
"When Ghost Meets Ghost" by William Frend De Morgan
Loudly now as swiftly, swiftly,
O'er the glimmering sands she speeds;
Wildly now as in the furzes
From the piercing spikes she bleeds.
"Daphne" by George Meredith
By Rhinefield and by Osmondsleigh,
Through leat and furze brake fast drove he,
Until he saw the homeless sea,
That called with all its waves O!
"The Young Knight: A Parable" by Charles Kingsley
While the grey grasshopper whirrs
In the furze,
You that with your sulphur wings
Melt into the gold perfume
Of the broom
Where the linnet sits and sings;
"Butterflies" by Alfred Noyes
'From darkness rushing o'er his way,
The Thorn's white load it bears on high!
Where the short furze all shrouded lay,
Mounts the dried grass;--Earth's bosom dry.
"Market-Night" by Robert Bloomfield
Rose o' the World, she came to my bed
And changed the dreams of my heart and head;
For joy of mine she left grief of hers,
And garlanded me with a crown of furze.
"The Dark Man" by Nora Jane Hopper Chesson
When spring blows over Lettermore
To bloom the ragged furze with gold,
The lovely south wind's living breath
Is laden with the smell of death:
For fever breeds on Lettermore
To waste the eyes of young and old.
"Lettermore" by Francis Brett Young