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  • Just how I know this I am not sure: something to do with the optimistically green front door, or the arbour covered in sweet-brier and holly, or the giant curved poplar in the yard, or maybe even the melancholy name of the road: Grays Inn.

    Exit the Actress

  • It led in a zigzag manner through thickets of hazel, elder, and sweet-brier; after following its windings for somewhat better than a furlong, I heard a gentle sound of water, and presently came to a small rill, which ran directly across the path.


  • She opened the window and let in the fresh morning air, and the smell of the sweet-brier, and the bright low-slanting rays of the early sun, which made a glory about her pale face and pale auburn hair as she held the long brush, and swept, singing to herself in a very low tone — like a sweet summer murmur that you have to listen for very closely — one of Charles

    Adam Bede

  • "Oh, no, father, the sweet-brier has been ordered," returned Algitha, without her usual brightness of manner.

    The Daughters of Danaus

  • Behind her was the trellis of the porch, with its sweet-brier hanging over it.

    The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 12, No. 69, July, 1863

  • He lifted his oars silently; she caught the sweet-brier, and, lightly shaking it, a rain of dew-drops dashed with deepest perfume sprinkled them; they moved on.

    The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 06, No. 37, November, 1860

  • From the shelving rocks a wild convolvulus drooped its twisted bells across them, a sweet-brier snatched at her hair in passing, a sudden elder-tree shot out its creamy panicles above, they ripped up drowsy beds of folded lily-blooms.

    The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 07, No. 39, January, 1861

  • He must have come in the saddle, unless a coach had returned for him and Mrs. Purcell, -- yes, there was Mrs. Purcell, -- and she wore that sweet-brier fresh-blossoming in the light.

    The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 07, No. 39, January, 1861

  • She was Parson Smith's daughter, at Weymouth, and as handsome a girl as ever I wanted to see, -- just as graceful as a sweet-brier bush.

    The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 03, No. 19, May, 1859

  • Margaret, in the room, watched them as they went, seeing how gentle the rough, burly man was with her father, and how, every time they passed the sweet-brier, he bent the branches aside, that they might not touch his face.

    The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 08, No. 48, October, 1861


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