cicala

The sound of the river and of the cicala is all the noise we hear.

From The Letters of Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1 of 2) by Sir Frederic G. (Frederic George) Kenyon

—With thee to lead me, O Day of mine, Down the grass path gray with dew,210 Under the pine-wood, blind with boughs, Where the swallow never flew Nor yet cicala dared carouse— No, dared carouse!

From Selections from the Poems and Plays of Robert Browning by Myra Reynolds

A silence fell upon the party, so profound that the cicala in the dry hedge shrilled to pierce the ear.

From The Life and Death of Richard Yea-and-Nay by Maurice Henry Hewlett

Brown cicala drily proses,       Creaking the hot air to sleep,     Bounteous orange flowers and roses,       Yield the wealth of love they keep,   To the sun's imperious ardour in a dream of fragrance deep.

From What I Remember, Volume 2 by Thomas Adolphus Trollope

The blue campanula of the mountain in reverence bowed its head; the great white lily distilled incense from its deep heart; the cicala shrilled aloud; the Forsaken Bird gave a long note from the thicket.

From Japanese Fairy Tales by Grace James

I am thinking how often we have sat in the colonnade before our beautiful house, when the fountain splashed in the garden and the cicalas chirped in the trees.

From A Struggle for Rome, v. 3 by Felix Dahn

The octagon tower casts a shade Cool and gray like a cutlass blade; In sun-baked vines the cicalas spin, The little green lizards run out and in.

From A Dome of Many-Coloured Glass by Amy Lowell

But when the cicalas had hushed their chirping, all were mustered again for supper; and having blithely feasted, they all addressed them to song and dance.

From The Decameron, Volume II by J. M. (James Macmullen) Rigg

You mark that the sun is high, the heat intense, and the silence unbroken save by the cicalas among the olive-trees.

From The Decameron, Volume I by J. M. (James Macmullen) Rigg

For instance, the swallows sing at morn, the cicalas at noon, the night-owl late in the dark, the screech-owl at even, the horned-owl at midnight, the cock before the dawn.

From The Apologia and Florida of Apuleius of Madaura by Harold Edgeworth Butler

A dry cicale chirps to a lass making hay, “Why creak’st thou, Tithonus?” quoth she.

From Books and Habits from the Lectures of Lafcadio Hearn by Lafcadio Hearn

The sound of the river and of the cicale is all the noise we hear.

From Life and Letters of Robert Browning by Robert Browning

Their house among the hills was shut in by a row of plane-trees in which by day the cicale were shrill; at evening fireflies lit up their garden.

From Robert Browning by Edward Dowden

We visited Lebanon, and in its grove reposed under the few remaining cedars, listened to the cry of the cicale, and watched the birds of brilliant plumage flitting from branch to branch.

From Glories of Spain by Charles W. (William) Wood

Close to her ear a cicale chirped, monotonously bright; far off, from every hill, the frogs began their evening singing.

From What Not A Prophetic Comedy by Dame Rose Macaulay