Oh, how this spring of love resembleth, The uncertain glory of an April day, Which now shows all beauty of the Sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away
I want to do to you what spring does with the cherry trees.
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.
Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain.
Love is the flower of life, and blossoms unexpectedly and without law, and must be plucked where it is found, and enjoyed for the brief hour of its duration.
Spring is nature's way of saying, 'Let's party!'
Behold, my friends, the spring is come; the earth has gladly received the embraces of the sun, and we shall soon see the results of their love!
I love spring anywhere, but if I could choose I would always greet in a garden.
When spring came, even the false spring, there were no problems except where to be happiest.
In dreams and in love there are no impossibilities.
The sweetest joy, the wildest woe is love.
To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.
Always it’s Spring)and everyone’s in love and flowers pick themselves.
Spring is when you feel like whistling even with a shoe full of slush.
You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.
The first day of spring is one thing, and the first spring day is another. The difference between them is sometimes as great as a month.
It is best to love wisely, no doubt; but to love foolishly is better than not to be able to love at all.
Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.
I stare out the window and wait for spring.
Love is an act of endless forgiveness, a tender look which becomes a habit.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
People ask me what I do in winter when there's no baseball. I'll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.
I cannot love as I have loved,
And yet I know not why;
It is the one great woe of life
To feel all feeling die.
'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
A poet, any real poet, is simply an alchemist who transmutes his cynicism regarding human beings into an optimism regarding the moon, the stars, the heavens, and the flowers, to say nothing of Spring, love, and dogs.
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