Hoyt & Roberts, comps. Hoyt’s New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations. 1922.
Seasons (Unclassified)
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,
Or if the secret ministry of frost
Shall hang them up in silent icicles,
Quietly shining to the quiet moon.
Coleridge—Frost at Midnight.
Our seasons have no fixed returns,
Without our will they come and go;
At noon our sudden summer burns,
Ere sunset all is snow.
Lowell—To ——.
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.
D. M. Mulock—Immutable.
January grey is here,
Like a sexton by her grave;
February bears the bier,
March with grief doth howl and rave,
And April weeps—but, O ye hours!
Follow with May’s fairest flowers.
Shelley—Dirge for the Year. St. 4.
Ah! well away!
Seasons flower and fade.
Tennyson—Every Day hath its Night.