Quotes About Nature

No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity.

Thou know'st 'tis common; all that live must die,Passing through nature to eternity.

The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn.

O sleep! O gentle sleep!Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids downAnd steep my senses in forgetfulness?

Our foster-nurse of nature is repose.

Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber.

Who doth ambition shun,And loves to live i' the sun,Seeking the food he eats,And pleas'd with what he gets.

From you have I been absent in the spring,When proud-pied April, dress'd in all his trim,Hath put a spirit of youth in everything.

I wish you joy of the worm.

She that herself will sliver and disbranchFrom her material sap, perforce must witherAnd come to deadly use.

Sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud;And after summer evermore succeedsBarren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold:So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet.

Under the greenwood treeWho loves to lie with me,And turn his merry noteUnto the sweet bird's throat,Come hither, come hither, come hither:Here shall he seeNo enemyBut winter and rough weather.

Expect Saint Martin's summer, halcyon days.

What he hath scanted men in hair, he hath given them in wit.

We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i' the sun,And bleat the one at the other: what we chang'dWas innocence for innocence.

You spotted snakes with double tongue,Thorny hedge-hogs, be not seen;Newts, and blind-worms, do no wrong;Come not near our fairy queen.

Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.

The weakest kind of fruitDrops earliest to the ground.

The self-same sun that shines upon his courtHides not his visage from our cottage, butLooks on alike.

The lark, the herald of the morn.

How quickly nature falls into revolt When gold becomes her object! For this the foolish over-careful fathers Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their brains with care, Their bones with industry.

He wants the natural touch.

Like a red morn, that ever yet betoken'dWrack to the seaman, tempest to the field.

The glowworm shows the matin to be near,And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire.