Spring is God's way of saying, 'One more time!'

Spring is God's way of saying, 'One more time!'

Autumn to winter, winter into spring,
Spring into summer, summer into fall,--
So rolls the changing year, read more

Autumn to winter, winter into spring,
Spring into summer, summer into fall,--
So rolls the changing year, and so we change;
Motion so swift, we know not that we move.

No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.

No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.

To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with read more

To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.

Long stormy spring-time, wet contentious April, winter chilling the lap of very May; but at length the season of summer read more

Long stormy spring-time, wet contentious April, winter chilling the lap of very May; but at length the season of summer does come

Indoors or out, no one relaxes in March, that month of wind and taxes, the wind will presently disappear, the read more

Indoors or out, no one relaxes in March, that month of wind and taxes, the wind will presently disappear, the taxes last us all the year.

If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, read more

If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.

Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
Whether the summer clothe the general earth
With greenness, read more

Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
Whether the summer clothe the general earth
With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing
Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch
Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch
Smokes in the sunthaw; whether the eve-drops fall,
Heard only in the trances of the blast,
Of if the secret ministry of frost
Shall hang them up in silent icicles,
Quietly shining to the quiet moon.

Our seasons have no fixed returns,
Without our will they come and go;
At noon our sudden read more

Our seasons have no fixed returns,
Without our will they come and go;
At noon our sudden summer burns,
Ere sunset all is snow.