Crossword-Solution: PLOWLAND
Dictionary
| Word | Word Type | Definition |
|---|---|---|
| Plowland | n. | Alt. of Plougland |
We have 1 clue for the answer “PLOWLAND”
| Clue | Answers |
|---|---|
| land plowed | 1 answer |
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Hint 1 meaning
A moving of the mind or soul; excitement of the feelings,
whether pleasing or painful; disturbance or agitation of mind caused by
a specific exciting cause and manifested by some sensible effect on the
body.
Hint 2 anagram
EONOTMI
Hint 3 another clue
A FEELING OF GREAT ELATION
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New Suggestion for "PLOWLAND"
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Sentences with PLOWLAND (5)
All about the field, like heaps of manure on well-kept plowland, lay from ten to fifteen dead and wounded to each couple of acres.
When Robin grew much older, when he was in trousers, and could play games, and appreciate his father’s prowess and God-given capacities in the gymnasium, on the tennis lawn, over the plowland among the partridges, Dion’s turn would come.
Beyond this we had some trouble to find a gate, but at length Masters hit on one a little way out of our course, and it led to a wide plowland, freshly turned but hard-frozen, in the furrows of which our horses boggled a good deal.
Concerning the parentage of these brothers, I can find no more than that they were of the family of Wright of Plowland, in Holderness, Yorkshire.
See Carucage.] Defn: A plowland; as much land as one team can plow in a year and a day; -- by some said to be about 100 acres.
Quotes with PLOWLAND (3)
How does one hate a country, or love one? Tibe talks about it; I lack the trick of it. I know people, I know towns, farms, hills and rivers and rocks, I know how the sun at sunset in autumn falls on the side of a certain plowland in the hills; but what is the sense of giving a boundary to all that, of giving it a name and ceasing to love where the name ceases to apply? What is love of one's country; is it hate of one's uncountry? Then it's not a good thing. Is it simply self-…
Here is a boy who was waiting to be punished. But then, unexpectedly, he ¯nds that his fault has been overlooked or forgiven and at once the worldreappears in brilliant colors, full of delightful prospects. Here is a soldier whowas waiting, with a heavy heart, to su®er and die in battle. But suddenlythe luck has changed. There is news! The war is over and everyone burstsout singing! He will go home after all! The sparrows in the plowland werecrouching in terror of the kestrel…
How does one hate a country, or love one?... I know people, I know towns, farms, hills and rivers and rocks, I know how the sun at sunset in autumn falls on the side of a certain plowland in the hills; but what is the sense of giving a boundary to all that, of giving a name and ceasing to love where the name ceases to apply? What is the love of one's country; is it hate of one's uncountry? Then it's not a good thing.