“The hills,Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun, -- the valesStretching in pensive quietness between;The venerable woods -- rivers that moveIn majesty, and the complaining brooksThat make the meadows green; and, poured round all,Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste, --Are but the solemn decorations allOf the great tomb of man.”
William Cullen Bryant
“Every Winter, When the great sun has turned his face away, The earth goes down into a vale of grief, And fasts, and weeps, and shrouds herself in sables”
Charles Kingsley
“The meanest flowret of the vale, / The simplest note that swells the gale, / The common sun, the air, and skies, / To him are opening paradise.”
Thomas Gray
“Adore, v.: To venerate expectantly.”
Ambrose Bierce
“By slow Meander's margent green, / And in the violet-embroidered vale.”
John Milton
“I for one venerate a petticoat.”
Lord Byron
“I am declinedInto the vale of years.”
William Shakespeare
