Quotes About Spring

I will sing from the sage's chair by the Norn's sacred spring; I watched and listened, I looked and thought about the words of the wise when they talked of runes and what they reveal at the High One's hall, in the High One's hall— here is what I heard… HÁVAMÁL (SAYINGS OF THE HIGH ONE), POEMS OF THE "ELDER EDDA

It had been a false spring, a lie like all the other lies, and I found myself wondering it it would ever really come.

Memory couldn't be counted on. Time was unreliable and everything dissolved and died—even or especially when it looked like life. Like spring. All around us, the grass grew. Birds made a living racket in the trees. The sun beat down with promise. From that moment forward, Ernest would always hate the spring.

It was now the second week in March and the time of tender growth, when it slowly dawned on people that the world would not always be cold and brown. This high-level country was like something unexpectedly and suddenly loved and responding to the bounty of young rain and long hours of sunlight. Awake, awake, ye drowsy sleeper.

Khaemwaset's eyes remained on the riverbank as the green confusion of spring glided by. Beyond the fecund, brilliant life of the bank with its choked river growth, its darting, piping birds, its busy insects and occasionally its sleepy grinning crocodiles, was a wealth of rich black soil in which the fellahin were struggling, knee-deep, to strew the fresh seed.

The apple trees were in full bloom, the scent enveloping the party in a heady, almost palpable mist, and pale petals rocked on the glittering surface of the water and lay in white mats against the banks.

Their expressions were like those caught by Renoir in the faces of The Daughters of Paul Durand-Reul, relaxed, proper, satisfied, slightly ingenue, the background filled with spring color. It was unreal, a garden party far removed from the Revolution that surged beyond the orchard walls. Here, aristocrats dined among white-gloved servants, as in a painting, while songbirds sang in the trees.

Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth! And, by the incantation of this verse, Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind! Be through my lips to unawakened earth The trumpet of a prophecy! O, wind, If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?

The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind,If winter comes, can spring be far behind?

And Spring arose on the garden fair, Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere; And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.

A Lament O world! O life! O time! On whose last steps I climb, Trembling at that where I had stood before; When will return the glory of your prime? No more—Oh, never more! Out of the day and night A joy has taken flight; Fresh spring, and summer, and winter hoar, Move my faint heart with grief, but with delight No more—Oh, never more!

And the Spring arose on the garden fair, Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere; And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.

It's early spring, some late or very early hour with Orion toppling backward onto the serrated edge of the mountains and not crying out but silent, silent as he tries to shoot the bull before it tramples him.

April light was unlike any other. It had a charming, optimistic unreliability like an overbid hand in poker. It gave a promise of spring that it wasn't sure it could keep.

The last rays of the setting sun were filtering through the orchard, weaving strange, shadowy patterns on the dusty ochre earth ... Here was one small reminder, if one were needed, that we were a long way from those frosty Scottish autumns that I knew so well. This was, indeed, the island of winter spring.

Here I am, standing beside the spring, and the daughters of the townspeople are coming out to draw water.

Now the girl was very beautiful, a virgin who had not had relations with any man. She went down to the spring, filled her jar, and came up again.

Now Rebekah had a brother named Laban, and he rushed out to the man at the spring.

As soon as he saw the ring, and the bracelets on his sisterís wrists, and heard Rebekahís words, “The man said this to me,” he went and found the man standing by the camels near the spring.

Here I am, standing beside this spring. Now if a maiden comes out to draw water and I say to her, ëPlease let me drink a little water from your jar,í

Then Israel sang this song: “Spring up, O well, all of you sing to it!

From the hilltop the border curved to the spring of the Waters of Nephtoah, proceeded to the cities of Mount Ephron, and then bent around toward Baalah (that is, Kiriath-jearim).

On the south side the border began at the outskirts of Kiriath-jearim and extended westward to the spring at the Waters of Nephtoah.

Early in the morning Jerubbaal (that is, Gideon) and all the men with him camped beside the spring of Harod. And the camp of Midian was north of them in the valley near the hill of Moreh.