| Author |
Quotes |
| Alfred Edward Housman | Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough |
| Bishop Reginald Heber | When Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil. |
| Christopher Pearce Cranch | 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." |
| Emily Dickinson | A little Madness in the Spring Is wholesome even for the King. |
| Heinrich Heine | The spring's already at the gate With looks my care beguiling; The country round appeareth straight A flower-garden smiling. |
| Heinrich Heine | The beauteous eyes of the spring's fair night With comfort are downward gazing. |
| John Gray | Lo! where the rosy bosom'd Hours Fair Venus' train appear, Disclose the long-expecting flowers, And wake the purple year. |
| Michael Bruce | 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. |
| Mrs Felicia D Hemans | 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. |
| Richard Hovey | For surely in the blind deep-buried roots Of all men's souls to-day A secret quiver shoots. |
| Robert Herrick | 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. |
| Robert Underwood Johnson | They know who keep a broken tryst, Till something from the Spring be missed We have not truly known the Spring. |
| Sarah Foster Davis | 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! |
| Sir Samuel Garth | Eternal Spring, with smiling Verdue here Warms the mild Air, and crowns the youthful year. . . . . The Rose still blushes, and the vi'lets blow. |
| T Stearns Eliot | April is the cruelest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. |
| George Herbert | 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. |
| Ralph Waldo Emerson | Daughter of heaven and earth, coy Spring, With sudden passion languishing, Teaching barren moors to smile, Painting pictures mile on mile, Holds a cup of cowslip wreaths Whence a smokeless incense breathes. |
| Robert Burns | Now Nature hangs her mantle green On every blooming tree, And spreads her sheets o' daisies white Out o'er the grassy lea. |
| Samuel Taylor Coleridge | And the spring comes slowly up this way. |
| William Cowper | Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees, Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze. |
| - Page 1 Next |