cicala

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

You are to hear a voice that puts to silence all others, as the trumpet the flute, as the cicala the bee, as the choir the tuning-fork.

From Works of Lucian of Samosata — Volume 03 by F. G. (Francis George) Fowler

There is nothing which indicates that he cares for nature in any of its phases, and he calls the cicala a locust.

From Critical Studies by Ouida

The cicala sang in the flower of the pomegranate, the frog sang by the pond.

From Japanese Fairy Tales by Grace James

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

Always, over, in, and through everything, rises day and night from this Japanese landscape the song of the cicalas, ceaseless, strident, and prodigious.

From Madame Chrysantheme by Pierre Loti

The call of bird voices echoes through the shade; some shrill and piping and not unmelodious, others harsh, half human, almost menacing; the screech of cicalas too, loud, vibrant, distressing to overwrought and weakened nerves.

From Haviland's Chum by Bertram Mitford

An orchestra, discreetly subdued but innumerable, of crickets and cicalas, accompanies them in an unceasing tremolo,—the immense far-reaching tremolo, which, gentle and eternal, never ceases on Japanese land.

From Madame Chrysantheme by Pierre Loti

As he advanced in the profound silence, the shrilling of innumerable cicalas in the dry grass seemed positively deafening to his strained ears.

From Nostromo, a Tale of the Seaboard by Joseph Conrad

The frogs were singing vespers in the ditches, the sharp chorus of the cicalas shrilled on all sides.

From Little Novels of Italy by Maurice Henry Hewlett

From the adjoining room the faint, monotonous click of billiard balls, languidly played, came at intervals like the dry notes of cicale in the bushes.

From Colonel Starbottle's Client by Bret Harte

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

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

We have a row of plane trees before the door in which the cicale sing all day, and the beautiful mountains stand close around, keeping us fresh with shadows.

From The Letters of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Volume II by Sir Frederic G. (Frederic George) Kenyon

Thus we floated down the widening stream of the Po, sleeping when the cicale sang, awake with the stars.

From The Last Man by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley