But as I fished I came on a man sitting in a green dell, busy at the making of brooms.
"The Moon Endureth--Tales and Fancies" by John Buchan
Over the blackberries and the broom-sedge, on he went toward the swirls of golden dust that swept upward from the bright green slope.
"The Battle Ground" by Ellen Glasgow
The broom corn is not left to ripen, as formerly, but is cut when it is quite green, and the seed not much past the milk.
"The Commercial Products of the Vegetable Kingdom" by P. L. Simmonds
Dat's huccome I happened to have dat green-handle sto'e broom.
"Moriah's Mourning and Other Half-Hour Sketches" by Ruth McEnery Stuart
There were marshes and boggy green meadows and old fields of pine and broom sedge.
"The Long Roll" by Mary Johnston
Thus also green pease, haslers, broom-buds, or any kind of pulse.
"The accomplisht cook" by Robert May
Farmer Green's wife appeared in the doorway with a broom in her hand.
"The Tale of Old Dog Spot" by Arthur Scott Bailey
The lime may be conveniently applied by means of a whisk-broom or a Paris green sifter.
"Asparagus, its culture for home use and for market:" by F. M. Hexamer
The door slave sweeping the threshold of the Regia with a green broom?
"Cecilia" by F. Marion Crawford
He dashed after her; he heard a trap speeding down the green sward through the broom.
"The Little Minister" by J. M. Barrie
Soft feathers fluff
in a lean wind, rough
as a rasp in the leaves’ green,
brooming the earth clean.
"Small Bird Singing In A Bush" by Tatamkhulu Afrika
Take all the rest; but give me this,
And the bird that nestles in it;
I love it, for it loves the Broom -
The green and yellow linnet.
"The Broom Flower" by Mary Botham Howitt
By ilka bush o' whin or broom,
By lown dyke back or braeside green,
Folk greetin', prayin', praisin' there,
A' sittin', kneelin', roun' war seen.
"Gran'Faither At Cam'slang" by Janet Hamilton
"The mountain daisy, bring the red red rose,"
From haunted Alloway the ivy green,
The "yellow broom" where stealing burnie flows,
And "Coila's gift, the holly" sharp and sheen.
"Centenary Poem" by Janet Hamilton
"Unless it be in what green field
Or meadow we our nest may build,
Midst flowering broom, or heather;
From whence our new-fledged offspring may
With least obstruction wing their way
Up to the walks of ether.
"The Boy And The Skylark" by Charles Lamb