Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
Whether the summer clothe the general earth
With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing
Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch
Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch
Smokes in the sunthaw; whether the eve-drops fall,
Heard only in the trances of the blast,
Of if the secret ministry of frost
Shall hang them up in silent icicles,
Quietly shining to the quiet moon.
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A woodland in full color is awesome as a forest fire; but a single tree is like a dancing tongue read more
A woodland in full color is awesome as a forest fire; but a single tree is like a dancing tongue of flame to warm the heart.
Spring is nature's way of saying, 'Let's party!'
Spring is nature's way of saying, 'Let's party!'
Autumn to winter, winter into spring,
Spring into summer, summer into fall,--
So rolls the changing year, read more
Autumn to winter, winter into spring,
Spring into summer, summer into fall,--
So rolls the changing year, and so we change;
Motion so swift, we know not that we move.
Our seasons have no fixed returns,
Without our will they come and go;
At noon our sudden read more
Our seasons have no fixed returns,
Without our will they come and go;
At noon our sudden summer burns,
Ere sunset all is snow.
Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence. Summer passes and one remembers one's exuberance. Autumn passes and one remembers one's read more
Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence. Summer passes and one remembers one's exuberance. Autumn passes and one remembers one's reverence. Winter passes and one remembers one's perseverance.
January grey is here,
Like a sexton by her grave;
February bears the bier,
read more
January grey is here,
Like a sexton by her grave;
February bears the bier,
March with grief doth howl and rave,
And April weeps--but, O ye hours!
Follow with May's fairest flowers.
Autumn arrives in the early morning, but spring at the close of a winter day.
Autumn arrives in the early morning, but spring at the close of a winter day.
Change is a measure of time and, in the autumn, time seems speeded up. What was is not and never read more
Change is a measure of time and, in the autumn, time seems speeded up. What was is not and never again will be; what is is change.
Indoors or out, no one relaxes in March, that month of wind and taxes, the wind will presently disappear, the read more
Indoors or out, no one relaxes in March, that month of wind and taxes, the wind will presently disappear, the taxes last us all the year.
