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Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees,
Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze.
Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees,
Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze.
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.
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.
in Just--
spring when the world is mud--
luscious the little
lame balloonman
read more
in Just--
spring when the world is mud--
luscious the little
lame balloonman
whistles far and wee
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.
It is only the farmer who faithfully plants seeds in the Spring, who reaps a harvest in the Autumn.
It is only the farmer who faithfully plants seeds in the Spring, who reaps a harvest in the Autumn.
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.
In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.
In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.
April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
read more
April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
