Spring Quotes ( 30 - 39 of 39 )
And the spring comes slowly up this way.
And the spring comes slowly up this way.
 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. 
 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." 
 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 
 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! 
 As quickly as the ice vanishes when the Father unlooses the frost 
fetters and unwounds the icy ropes of read more 
 As quickly as the ice vanishes when the Father unlooses the frost 
fetters and unwounds the icy ropes of the torrent. 
 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. 
 Now spring returns; but not to me returns
 The vernal joy my better years have known;
  Dim read more 
 Now spring returns; but not to me returns
 The vernal joy my better years have known;
  Dim in my breast life's dying taper burns,
   And all the joys of life with health have flown. 
 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.