| Quotes |
Topic |
| Easter | Spring bursts to-day, For Christ is risen and all the earth's at play. |
| Evening | One by one the flowers close, Lily and dewy rose Shutting their tender petals from the moon. |
| Honeysuckles | I plucked a honeysuckle where The hedge on high is quick with thorn, And climbing for the prize, was torn, And fouled my feet in quag-water; And by the thorns and by the wind The blossom that I took was thinn'd And yet I found it sweet and fair. |
| Larks | The sunrise wakes the lark to sing, The moonrise wakes the nightingale. Come, darkness, moonrise, everything That is so silent, sweet, and pale: Come, so ye wake the nightingale. |
| Larks | O happy skylark springing Up to the broad, blue sky, Too fearless in thy winging, Too gladsome in thy singing, Thou also soon shalt lie Where no sweet notes are ringing. |
| Mortality | Consider The lilies of the field whose bloom is brief:-- We are as they; Like them we fade away As doth a leaf. |
| Nightingales | The sunrise wakes the lark to sing, The moonrise wakes the nightingale. Come, darkness, moonrise, everything That is so silent, sweet, and pale: Come, so ye wake the nightingale. |
| Nightingales | Hark! that's the nightingale, Telling the self-same tale Her song told when this ancient earth was young: So echoes answered when her song was sung In the first wooded vale. |
| Nightingales | The angel of spring, the mellow-throated nightingale. |
| Paradise | The loves that meet in Paradise shall cast out fear, And Paradise hath room for you and me and all. |
| Perseverance | We shall escape the uphill by never turning back. |
| Pigeons | Wood-pigeons cooed there, stock-doves nestled there; My trees were full on songs and flowers and fruit, Their branches spread a city to the air. |
| Poppies | Let but my scarlet head appear And I am held in scorn; Yet juice of subtile virtue lies Within my cup of curious dyes. |
| Summer | Before green apples blush, Before green nuts embrown, Why, one day in the country Is worth a month in town. |
| Swallows | It's surely summer. for there's a swallow: Come one swallow, his mate will follow, The bird race quicken and wheel and thicken. |
| Swallows | There goes the swallow,-- Could we but follow! Hasty swallow, stay, Point us out the way; Look back swallow, turn back swallow, stop swallow. |
| Sympathy | Somewhere or other there must surely be The face not seen, the voice not heard, The heart that not yet--never yet--ah me! Made answer to my word. |
| Violets | The violets whisper from the shade Which their own leaves have made: Men scent our fragrance on the air, Yet take no heed Of humble lessons we would read. |
| Winter | In the bleak midwinter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, Long ago. |
| - Page 1 |