No kind action ever stops with itself. One kind action leads to another. Good example is followed. A single act read more

No kind action ever stops with itself. One kind action leads to another. Good example is followed. A single act of kindness throws out roots in all directions, and the roots spring up and make new trees. The greatest work that kindness does to others is that it makes them kind themselves.

For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
The flowers appear on the earth; the read more

For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds
is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land;
The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the
tender grape, give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one,
and come away.

Gentle Spring!--in sunshine clad,
Well dost thou thy power display!
For Winter maketh the light heart said,
read more

Gentle Spring!--in sunshine clad,
Well dost thou thy power display!
For Winter maketh the light heart said,
And thou,--makest the sad heart gay.

I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers:
Of April, May, of June, and July flowers.
read more

I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers:
Of April, May, of June, and July flowers.
I sing of Maypoles, Hock-carts, wassails, wakes,
Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal cakes.

If there comes a little thaw,
Still the air is chill and raw,
Here and there a read more

If there comes a little thaw,
Still the air is chill and raw,
Here and there a patch of snow,
Dirtier than the ground below,
Dribbles down a marshy flood;
Ankle-deep you stick in mud
In the meadows while you sing,
"This is Spring."

The spring's already at the gate
With looks my care beguiling;
The country round appeareth straight
read more

The spring's already at the gate
With looks my care beguiling;
The country round appeareth straight
A flower-garden smiling.

Sweet Spring, full of sweet dayes and roses,
A box where sweets compacted lie,
My musick shows read more

Sweet Spring, full of sweet dayes and roses,
A box where sweets compacted lie,
My musick shows ye have your closes,
And all must die.

Every year, back comes Spring, with nasty little birds yapping their fool heads off and the ground all mucked up read more

Every year, back comes Spring, with nasty little birds yapping their fool heads off and the ground all mucked up with plants.

The splendor of the rose and the whitness of the lily do not rob the little violet of it’s scent read more

The splendor of the rose and the whitness of the lily do not rob the little violet of it’s scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its lovliness.