Swiftly it enveloped her in its embrace, covering her completely in its thick folds, and then it swayed back upon its stem
As far aloft as I could see the stems
and branches and twigs were as smooth and as highly polished as the newest of American-made pianos.
And so, leaving the remnant of these damned souls still going hither and thither and moaning, as the day grew clearer, I tied some grass about my feet and limped on across smoking ashes and among black stems
, that still pulsated internally with fire, towards the hiding-place of the Time Machine.
It was a kind of glade in the forest, made by a fall; seedlings were already starting up to struggle for the vacant space; and beyond, the dense growth of stems
and twining vines and splashes of fungus and flowers closed in again.
Grasping the tree's stem
with his powerful paws he dragged down with all the great weight of his huge bulk and all the irresistible force of those mighty muscles.
It was a lily of the valley, whose tall stem
formed the mast, while the broad leaves that rose from the roots, and drooped again till they reached the water, were filled with gay little Elves, who danced to the music of the silver lily-bells above, that rang a merry peal, and filled the air with their fragrant breath.
Each carried a strange banner swung from stem
to stern above the upper works, and upon the prow of each was painted some odd device that gleamed in the sunlight and showed plainly even at the distance at which we were from the vessels.
What a weird sensation it is to feel the stem
of a ship sinking swiftly from under you and see the bow climbing high away among the clouds
A noo boarder and lodger, sir, and looking fit and taut as a fiddle; slep' like a supercargo, he did, right alongside of John--stem
we was, all night.
Weaker and weaker became the struggles of them all, when a sudden misstep sent Bulan stumbling headforemost against the stem
of a tree, where, stunned, he sank unconscious, at the mercy of the relentless bulls.
Down there," he said, "is Rosa, watching like myself, and waiting from minute to minute; down there, under Rosa's eyes, is the mysterious flower, which lives, which expands, which opens, perhaps Rosa holds in this moment the stem
of the tulip between her delicate fingers.
I used to love to drift along the pale-yellow cornfields, looking for the damp spots one sometimes found at their edges, where the smartweed soon turned a rich copper colour and the narrow brown leaves hung curled like cocoons about the swollen joints of the stem