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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To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with read more
To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.
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.
Long stormy spring-time, wet contentious April, winter chilling the lap of very May; but at length the season of summer read more
Long stormy spring-time, wet contentious April, winter chilling the lap of very May; but at length the season of summer does come
In a way winter is the real spring, the time when the inner things happen, the resurge of nature.
In a way winter is the real spring, the time when the inner things happen, the resurge of nature.
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.
And you would accept the seasons of your heart just as you have always accepted that seasons pass over your read more
And you would accept the seasons of your heart just as you have always accepted that seasons pass over your fields and you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.
Spring is God's way of saying, 'One more time!'
Spring is God's way of saying, 'One more time!'
If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, read more
If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.
Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all.
Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all.
