Elizabeth Smart Quotes

Blow trumpet, for the world is white with May.

Again the blackbirds sings; the streams Wake, laughing, from their winter dreams, And tremble in the April showers The tassels of the maple flowers.

When the groundhog casts his shadow And the small birds sing And the pussywillows happen And the sun shines warm And when the peepers peep Then it is Spring

A man is not a bird, to come and go with the springtime.

The ghostly winter silence had given way to the great spring murmur of awakening life.

Spring time is the land awakening.

What potent blood hath modest May.

Harshness vanished. A sudden softness has replaced the meadows' wintry grey. Little rivulets of water changed their singing accents. Tendernesses, hesitantly, reach toward the earth from space, and country lanes are showing these unexpected subtle risings that find expression in the empty trees.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.

The streams, rejoiced that winter's work is done, Talk of to-morrow's cowslips as they run.

Every year, back comes Spring, with nasty little birds yapping their fool heads off and the ground all mucked up with plants.

Hear how the birds, on ev'ry blooming spray, With joyous musick wake the dawning day.

For, as when the red-cheeked, dancing girls, April and May, trip home to the wintry, misanthropic woods; even the barest, ruggedest, most thunder-cloven old oak will at least send forth some few green sprouts, to welcome such glad-hearted visitants . . .

Spring. March fans it, April christens it, and May puts on its jacket and trousers.

Never yet was a springtime, when the buds forgot to bloom.

The spring's already at the gate With looks my care beguiling; The country round appeareth straight A flower-garden smiling.

Almond blossom, sent to teach us That the spring days soon will reach us.