Country

Usage examples of bucolic.

Your bucolic mind would never rise to the subtle import which may lie in such matters--the rest of mind which it is to have them right, and the plaguey uneasiness when aught is wrong.

Like the dish of sugared rose-leaves that Eastern epicures insert in a succession of highly-seasoned plats, it turned upon birds and springtime--upon bucolic joys and pastoral pleasures.

Constituent from Rennes who had been celebrated for seating himself in the Estates-General in a plain brown fustian coat, apparently the very paragon of bucolic simplicity promoted in the Rousseauean code of social morality.

Goldfarb pondered the whirlwind of high-energy particles, trillions of electron volts sweeping clockwise underneath the bucolic landscape.

Like Siamese twins joined at the canal, the rolling hills and yuppified subdivisions of the upstate region are at constant odds with the bucolic flat lands and Mayberry-esque towns down state.

Sam Outrell, the janitor, was waiting for him when the elevator doors opened, with a look of placid expectancy on his pleasant bucolic face.

After she agreed to accompany him home, he drove her to bucolic East Meadow.

Griffin thought of Heather Malone, with her lovely life in a bucolic town and no past to speak of.

Families with enough money to do so relocated casketed loved ones to Mount Auburn and other newly fashioned bucolic resting places.

And I kept my clothes, which also looked out of place in their new bucolic home.

Even his copper bathing basin, which hed kept in a closet-sized room just down the hall, had been carted away by McCool and was already on the way to the bucolic little hamlet that Thomas had the misfortune to call home.

They also keep capons, fruit, and other things, and for all these matters there is a book which they call the Bucolics.

At a stroke, I will reveal you Terries for the Indian givers you are while at the same moment bestowing on the local bucolics imposing evidence of Groacian generosity—at the expense of you Soft Ones!

Messalina cooed, as she implanted a lingering kiss on one of the two bucolic figures just entering the atrium-vineyard.

Sometimes he dreamed of it, of sunlit trees and plashing streams all filled with fish, high hills and grassy plains—which was most odd, for he'd no knowledge of that place, nor any love of things bucolic.