That beautiful season the Summer! Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.
—Henry Wadsworth LongfellowGreat is the sun, and wide he goes Through empty heaven with repose; And in the blue and glowing days More thick than rain he showers his rays.
—Robert Louis StevensonBe who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.
—Dr. SeussI, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree I am yours – your Passages have been paid. Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need For this bright morning dawning for you.
—Maya AngelouFew hearts like his, with virtue warm’d, Few heads with knowledge so inform’d; If there’s another world, he lives in bliss; If there is none, he made the best of this.
—Robert BurnsThe wind is tossing the lilacs, The new leaves laugh in the sun, And the petals fall on the orchard wall, But for me the spring is done.
—Sara TeasdaleMy mother dandled me and sang, ‘How young it is, how young!’ And made a golden cradle That on a willow swung.
—William Butler YeatsThe trees are coming into leaf Like something almost being said; The recent buds relax and spread, Their greenness is a kind of grief.
—Philip LarkinOur neighbor felled his Oak. My raspberry patch rejoiced. Spring showers’ gift will be unhindered. Add pine mulch, bumble bees and wait.
—Michael AchilleIn every outthrust headland, in every curving beach, in every grain of sand there is the story of the earth.
—Rachel CarsonThe rain makes running pools in the gutter The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night And I love the rain.
—Langston HughesHark, I hear a robin calling! List, the wind is from the south! And the orchard-bloom is falling Sweet as kisses on the mouth.
—Lucy Maud MontgomeryIndoors 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.
—Ogden NashLike an army defeated The snow hath retreated, And now doth fare ill On the top of the bare hill.
—William WordsworthIn the depths of winter I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.
—Albert CamusIn spring when maple buds are red, We turn the clock an hour ahead; Which means, each April that arrives, We lose an hour out of our lives.
—Phyllis McGinleyWhen March is scarcely here A color stands abroad On solitary hills That science cannot overtake, But human nature feels
—Emily DickinsonThe day is ending, The night is descending; The marsh is frozen, The river dead. Through clouds like ashes The red sun flashes On village windows That glimmer red.
—Henry Wadsworth LongfellowHad we but world enough, and time, This coyness, Lady, were no crime. We would sit down and think which way To walk and pass our long love’s day.
—Andrew MarvellMay you Open your eyes to water Water waving forever And may you in your innocence Sail through this to that.
—Lucille Clifton