Top 40 Spring Song Quotes
#1. Here, also, the future was cried aloud by the wind through the rocks, so that all those who heard would shiver, and then the liquid spring song of the thrush would make all the beauty of moonlight and sunlight blend together, making it true, so true, that happiness must come again
Elyne Mitchell
#2. My God is
the green tide in the spring leaves
the redness of cherries high in the air
the excitement of shooting stars
the song of birds in summer branches
the sunrise on a winter's morning
the name of everything we don't understand ...
William Of Ockham
#3. Over increasingly large areas of the United States, spring now comes unheralded by the return of the birds, and the early mornings are strangely silent where once they were filled with the beauty of bird song.
Rachel Carson
#4. I'd like to sing you a song now about my old girlfriend. It's called "They'll Find Her When the Leaves Blow Away 'Cause I'm Not Raking 'Til Spring."
Steven Wright
#5. Following the road down to Maienfeld, she said to herself, "If only I can meet the Spring, how happy I shall be."
Today, she thought of the Spring as a gay messenger boy and smilingly she imagined him "in a beautiful apple green suit with daisies studding his shoes" as it says in the song.
Charles Tritten
#6. Spring's last-born darling, clear-eyed, sweet,
Pauses a moment, with white twinkling feet,
And golden locks in breezy play,
Half teasing and half tender, to repeat
Her song of May.
Sarah Chauncey Woolsey
#7. In spring more mortal singers than belong
To any one place cover us with song.
Thrush, bluebird, blackbird, sparrow, and robin throng ...
Robert Frost
#8. WANT TO DO WITH YOU WHAT SPRING DOES WITH THE CHERRY TREES." Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair *
Chance Carter
#9. The nightingale has a lyre of gold, The lark's is a clarion call, And the blackbird plays but a boxwood flute, But I love him best of all. For his song is all the joy of life, And we in the mad spring weather, We two have listened till he sang Our hearts and lips together.
William Ernest Henley
#10. Spring is not yet here, but the song of a solitary, pioneering blackbird when I wake, the smell of something warm and floral on the air in fleeting moments, these signs give me hope.
Tracy Rees
#11. Your explanation brought up a host of dim recollections, which affected me as a song of his childhood affects a man on his deathbed when hear from the lips of another.
Frank Wedekind
#12. Then another clear voice, as young and as ancient as Spring, like the song of a glad water flowing down into the night from a bright morning in the hills, came falling like silver to meet them: Now
J.R.R. Tolkien
#13. You will taste a way of life profoundly nourishing and from your tongue may spring a song or poem or sentence or word or maybe nothing but silence. Silence only the heart can turn to song.
Emily Saliers
#14. Blessed be the Lord for the beauty of summer and spring, for the air, the water, the verdure, and the song of birds.
Carl Linnaeus
#15. She is not fair to outward view
As many maidens be;
Her loveliness I never knew
Until she smiled on me.
Oh! then I saw her eye was bright,
A well of love, a spring of light.
Hartley Coleridge
#16. People can be happy in only one way, and that is if they are authentically themselves. Then the springs of happiness start flowing, they become more alive, they become a joy to see, a joy to be with; they are a song, they are a dance.
Rajneesh
#17. I've always been a fan of melody and emotional melancholy, whether it was Rites of Spring or Tears for Fears or Neil Young. If I hear a song that has a sweet melody, I'm a sucker for it, whether it's Linkin Park or Little Richard.
Dave Grohl
#18. Spring has past, summer has gone and winter is here. And the song that I meant to sing remains unsung. I have spent my days stringing and unstringing my instrument.
Robin S. Sharma
#19. She acts like summer and walks like rain
Reminds me that there's a time to change
Since the return from her stay on the moon
She listens like spring and she talks like June.
Train
#20. It is Pau-kala. The branch is still bare. The old tree's leaves will never return - they are a memory and a song. But there is a sapling, there is a sapling right beside that old tree, and it's trembling with promise. There will be a spring again.
Alma Alexander
#21. I will come during the spring with blooms of mystic ecstasy.
I will vanish in the song of autumn with the falling colors and beauty.
Debasish Mridha
#22. Pippa's Song The year's at the spring The day's at the morn Morning's at seven, The Hill side's dew-pearled The lark's on the wing The snail's on the thorn God's in his heaven- All's right with the world
Robert Browning
#24. Fate. As a child, that word was often my only companion. It whispered to me from dark corners during lonely nights. It was the song of the birds in spring and the call of the wind through bare branches on a cold winter afternoon. Fate. Both my anguish and my solace. My escort and my cage.
Leslye Walton
#25. Sweet as sweetest Grecian honey will my song be when I sing, O Beloved, in the season of the Spring!
Ruben Dario
#26. There is another sort of day which needs celebrating in song
the day of days when spring at last holds up her face to be kissed, deliberate and unabashed. On that day no wind blows either in the hills or in the mind.
E.B. White
#27. From some home a jade flute sends dark notes drifting,
Scattering on the spring wind that fills Lo-yang.
Tonight, if we should hear the willow-breaking song,
Who could help but long for the gardens of home?
Li Bai
#28. Come, come everyone, come with love, come with joy, come to my heart, there is always spring, roses always smiling, soul is always singing with joy in the light of love. I am waiting, are you coming. My heart is always ready to dance, always ready to love, always ready with a song.
Debasish Mridha
#29. Come, I come! ye have called me long,
I come o'er the mountain with light and song:
Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth,
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves, opening as I pass.
Felicia Hemans
#30. In early spring, every petal of tulips sing a song of love and life, dance with joy and happiness to enjoy her short life of dazzling beauty.
Debasish Mridha
#31. You start in April and cross to the time of May
One has you as it leaves, one as it comes
Since the edges of these months are yours and defer
To you, either of them suits your praises.
The Circus continues and the theatre's lauded palm,
Let this song, too, join the Circus spectacle.
Ovid
#32. Looking at the original lyrics [of "A Song For You" ] as I was preparing it, I thought, "Wow! I feel like it was written for me." That's what a great song does. You don't have to do a lot of homework. You can just say the words and it springs to life.
Cheyenne Jackson
#33. We are all treading the vanishing road of a song in the air, the vanishing road of the spring flowers and the winter snows, the vanishing roads of the winds and the streams, the vanishing road of beloved faces.
Richard Le Gallienne
#34. The rosy gleam of his lip, the fevered gleam of his eyes. There was not a line anywhere on his face, nothing creased or graying; all crisp. He was spring, golden and bright. Envious death would drink his blood, and grow young again.
Madeline Miller
#35. Right now the day length is exactly the same as in spring when birds key into it and begin singing. The birds are a little confused by it all and the singing isn't very intense. It only lasts a week or so each fall, but it's still cool to hear spring bird songs at this time of the year.
Craig Thompson
#36. Dream Song: As my eyes Search the prairie, I feel the summer in the spring. Whenever I pause The noise Of the village.
Frances Densmore
#37. Whither away, Bluebird, Whither away? The blast is chill, yet in the upper sky Thou still canst find the color of thy wing, The hue of May. Warbler, why speed, thy southern flight? ah, why, Thou, too, whose song first told us of the Spring? Whither away?
Edmund Clarence Stedman
#38. Lyrical poetry is much the same an every age, as the songs of the nightingales in every spring-time.
Heinrich Heine
#39. Is life worth living? Yes, so long
As Spring revives the year,
And hails us with the cuckoo's song,
To show that she is here;
Alfred Austin
#40. I soared above the song birds
And never heard them sing
I lived my life in winter
And then you brought the spring
Randall Wallace
