Dew Quotes - Page 8

• When the hornet hangs in the hollyhock,
  And the brown bee drones in the rose,
  And the west is a red-streaked four-o'clock,
  And summer is near its close,
  It's, Oh!, For the gate, and the locust lane;
  And dusk, and dew, and home again!

  Madison Cawein

  Summer, Home, Rose

  Madison Julius Cawein, “In The Lane”

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• A gush of bird song, a patter of dew
  A cloud and a rainbow's warning;
  Suddenly sunshine and perfect blue
  An April day in the morning!

  Harriet Elizabeth Prescott Spofford

  Song, Morning, Spring

  Harriet Elizabeth Prescott Spofford (1882). “Poems”

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• Water is patient; it can stagnate and let itself be coated with scum if need be. It is as gentle as the morning's dew. It is non-confrontational, even respectful, in circumventing the rocks in a stream. It makes room for everything that enters its pools. It accommodates by assuming the shape of any vessel it is poured into. And it is humble, seeking always the lowest level. Yet along with - or rather because of these adaptive, yielding properties, it is ultimately irresistible; it carves canyons out of stone.

  Huston Smith

  Morning, Humble, Humility

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• As falls the dew on quenchless sands, blood only serves to wash ambition's hands.

  Lord Byron

  Fall, Ambition, Blood

  George Gordon Byron, “Don Juan: Canto The Ninth”

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• The spring is fresh and fearless
  And every leaf is new,
  The world is brimmed with moonlight,
  The lilac brimmed with dew.
  
  Here in the moving shadows
  I catch my breath and sing -
  My heart is fresh and fearless
  And over-brimmed with spring.

  Sara Teasdale

  Spring, Moving, Heart

  Sara Teasdale (1915). “Rivers to the Sea”

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• Now summer is in flower and natures hum
  Is never silent round her sultry bloom
  Insects as small as dust are never done
  Wi' glittering dance and reeling in the sun
  And green wood fly and blossom haunting bee
  Are never weary of their melody
  Round field hedge now flowers in full glory twine
  Large bindweed bells wild hop and streakd woodbine
  That lift athirst their slender throated flowers
  Agape for dew falls and for honey showers
  These round each bush in sweet disorder run
  And spread their wild hues to the sultry sun.

  John Clare

  Summer, Running, Sweet

  John Clare, Eric Robinson, David Powell (2004). “Major Works”, p.135, Oxford University Press, USA

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• And let your best be for your friend. If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also. For what is your friend that your should seek with him hours to kill? Seek with him always hours to live. For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness. And in the sweetness of friendship, let there be laughter, and the sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

  Khalil Gibran

  Morning, Laughter, Fun

  Khalil Gibran, “Friendship IXX”

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• You must open a little, or rather raise on high your corolla so that the Bread of Angels may come as divine dew to strengthen you, and to give you all that is wanting to you.

  Therese of Lisieux

  Angel, Giving, Bread

  St. Therese of Lisieux (1915). “Thoughts of Saint Thérèse”, p.73, TAN Books

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• Even the facts of science may dust the mind by their dryness, unless they are ... rendered fertile by the dews of fresh and living truth. Knowledge does not come to us by details, but in flashes of light from heaven.

  Henry David Thoreau

  Knowledge, Science, Light

  Henry David Thoreau (2013). “The Essential Thoreau”, p.419, Simon and Schuster

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• All quiet along the Potomac tonight, no sound save the rush of the river, while soft falls the dew on the face of the dead, the picket's off duty forever.

  Ethel Lynn Beers

  Fall, Rivers, Forever

  "The Picket-Guard" l. 41 (1861) See Remarque 1

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• O for a lodge in a garden of cucumbers!
  O for an iceberg or two at control!
  O for a vale that at midday the dew cumbers!
  O for a pleasure trip up to the pole!

  Rossiter Johnson

  Summer, Garden, July

  Rossiter Johnson (1902). “Morning Lights and Evening Shadows”

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• And pray, who are you?"
  Said the Violet blue
  To the Bee, with surprise,
  At his wonderful size,
  In her eyeglass of dew.
  "I, madam," quoth he,
  "Am a publican Bee,
  Collecting the tax
  Of honey and wax.
  Have you nothing for me?

  John B. Tabb

  Summer, July, Blue

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• How insupportable would be the days, if the night with its dews and darkness did not come to restore the drooping world. As the shades begin to gather around us, our primeval instincts are aroused, and we steal forth from our lairs, like the inhabitants of the jungle, in search of those silent and brooding thoughts which are the natural prey of the intellect.

  Henry David Thoreau

  Night, Ideas, Darkness

  Henry David Thoreau (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Henry David Thoreau (Illustrated)”, p.1262, Delphi Classics

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• Out-worn heart, in a time out-worn,
  Come clear of the nets of wrong and right;
  Laugh, heart, again in the grey twilight,
  Sigh, heart, again in the dew of the morn.

  William Butler Yeats

  Twilight, Heart, Sadness

  'An Irish Airman Foresees his Death'

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• Oh that it were with me
  As with the flower;
  Blooming on its own tree
  For butterfly and bee
  Its summer morns:
  That I might bloom mine hour
  A rose in spite of thorns.
  
  Oh that my work were done
  As birds' that soar
  Rejoicing in the sun:
  That when my time is run
  And daylight too,
  I so might rest once more
  Cool with refreshing dew.

  Christina Rossetti

  Summer, Running, Flower

  Christina Rossetti (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Christina Rossetti (Illustrated)”, p.96, Delphi Classics

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• Tis moonlight, summer moonlight,
  All soft and still and fair;
  The solemn hour of midnight
  Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,
  
  But most where trees are sending
  Their breezy boughs on high,
  Or stooping low are lending
  A shelter from the sky.
  
  And there in those wild bowers
  A lovely form is laid;
  Green grass and dew-steeped flowers
  Wave gently round her head.

  Emily Bronte

  Summer, Sweet, Flower

  Emily Bronte, “Moonlight, Summer Moonlight”

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• In lang, lang days o' simmer,
  When the clear and cloudless sky
  Refuses ae weep drap o' rain
  To Nature parched and dry,
  The genial night, wi' balmy breath,
  Gars verdue, spring anew,
  An' ilka blade o' grass
  Keps its ain drap o' dew.

  James Ballantine

  Summer, Spring, Rain

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• Come boy, and pour for me a cup Of old Falernian. Fill it up With wine, strong, sparkling, bright, and clear; Our host decrees no water here. Let dullards drink the Nymph's pale brew, The sluggish thin their blood with dew. For such pale stuff we have no use; For us the purple grape's rich juice. Begone, ye chilling water sprite; Here burning Bacchus rules tonight! Catullus, Selections From Catullus No poems can live long or please that are written by water-drinkers.

  Horace

  Strong, Wine, Boys

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• And my heart springs up anew,
  Bright and confident and true,
  And the old love comes to meet me, in the dawning and the dew.

  Robert Louis Stevenson

  Life, Spring, Heart

  Robert Louis Stevenson (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Robert Louis Stevenson (Illustrated)”, p.3716, Delphi Classics

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• Oh fair, oh sweet and holy as dew at morning tide,
  I gaze on thee, and yearnings, sad in my bosom hide.

  Heinrich Heine

  Life, Sweet, Morning

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• A sensitive plant in a garden grew,
  And the young winds fed it with silver dew,
  And it opened its fan
  like leaves to the light,
  and closed them beneath the kisses of night.

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Nature, Sunset, Kissing

  Percy Bysshe Shelley (1840). “The Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley”, p.254

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• Profits on the exchange are the treasures of goblins. At one time they may be carbuncle stones, then coals, then diamonds, then flint stones, then morning dew, then tears.

  James de la Vega

  Morning, Business, Tears

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• Let youth cherish sleep, the happiest of earthly boons, while yet it is at its command; for there cometh the day to all when "neither the voice of the lute nor the birds" shall bring back the sweet slumbers that fell on their young eyes as unbidden as the dews.

  Edward Bulwer-Lytton, 1st Baron Lytton

  Sweet, Eye, Sleep

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• Sooner mayest thou trust thy pocket to a pickpocket than give loyal friendship to the man who boasts of eyes to the heart never mounts in dew! Only when man weeps he should be alone, not because tears are weak, but they should be secret. Tears are akin to prayer,--Pharisees parade prayers, imposters parade tears.

  Edward Bulwer-Lytton, 1st Baron Lytton

  Prayer, Eye, Heart

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• Now it is autumn and the falling fruit
  and the long journey towards oblivion.
  The apples falling like great drops of dew
  to bruise themselves an exit from themselves.

  D. H. Lawrence

  Death, Fall, Autumn

  D.H. Lawrence (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of D.H. Lawrence (Illustrated)”, p.6883, Delphi Classics

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