Now Nature hangs her mantle green
On every blooming tree,
And spreads her sheets o' daisies white
read more

Now Nature hangs her mantle green
On every blooming tree,
And spreads her sheets o' daisies white
Out o'er the grassy lea.

You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.

You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.

I have always tried to hide my efforts and wished my works to have a light joyousness of springtime which read more

I have always tried to hide my efforts and wished my works to have a light joyousness of springtime which never lets anyone suspect the labors it has cost me.

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

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.

Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.

Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.

Starred forget-me-nots smile sweetly,
Ring, bluebells, ring!
Winning eye and heart completely,
Sing, robin, read more

Starred forget-me-nots smile sweetly,
Ring, bluebells, ring!
Winning eye and heart completely,
Sing, robin, sing!
All among the reeds and rushes,
Where the brook its music hushes,
Bright the caloposon blushes,__
Laugh, O murmuring Spring!

For surely in the blind deep-buried roots
Of all men's souls to-day
A secret quiver shoots.

For surely in the blind deep-buried roots
Of all men's souls to-day
A secret quiver shoots.

I come, I come! ye have called me long,
I come o'er the mountain with light and song:
read more

I come, I come! ye have called me long,
I come o'er the mountain with light and song:
Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth,
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves, opening as I pass.