Let the rain sing you a lullaby.— Langston Hughes
Romantic Spring Rain quotations
April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.
Love comforteth like sunshine after rain, But Lust's effect is tempest after sun; Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain, Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done; Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies; Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies.
It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone.
I have seen the Lady April bringing the daffodils, Bringing the springing grass and the soft warm April rain.
Today is the day when bold kites fly, When cumulus clouds roar across the sky.
When robins return, when children cheer, When light rain beckons spring to appear. Today is the day when daffodils bloom, Which children pick to fill the room, Today is the day when grasses green, When leaves burst forth for spring to be seen.
There is love like a small lamp, which goes out when the oil is consumed;
or like a stream which dries up when it doesn't rain. But there is a love that is like a mighty spring gushing up out of the earth; it keeps flowing forever, and is inexhaustible.
My heart is in a world of water and crystal, My clothes are damp in this time of spring rains.
Happiness is like a sunbeam, which the least shadow intercepts, while adversity is often as the rain of spring.
Maybe love is like rain. Sometimes gentle, sometimes torrential, flooding, eroding, joyful, steady, filling the earth, collecting in underground springs. When it rains, when we love, life grows.
In spring rain a pretty girl yawning.
Expect to have hope rekindled. Expect your prayers to be answered in wondrous ways. The dry seasons in life do not last. The spring rains will come again.
Expect to have hope rekindled. The dry seasons in life do not last. The spring rains will come again.
When the hounds of Spring are on winter's traces, The mother of months in meadow or plain Fills the shadows and windy places With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain.
All things with which we deal preach to us.
What is a farm but a mute gospel? The chaff and the wheat, weeds and plants, blight, rain, insects, sun,--it is a sacred emblem from the first furrow of spring to the last stack which the snow of winter overtakes in the fields.
In the spring rain, The pond and the river Have become one.
Spring rain leaking through the roof dripping from the wasps' nest.
Gentle feelings produce profoundly beneficial effects upon stern natures.
It is the spring rain which melts the ice-covering of the earth, and causes it to open to the beams of heaven.
A delicate fabric of bird song Floats in the air, The smell of wet wild earth Is everywhere. Oh I must pass nothing by Without loving it much, The raindrop try with my lips, The grass with my touch; For how can I be sure I shall see again The world on the first of May Shining after the rain?
A profusion of pink roses being ragged in the rain speaks to me of all gentleness and its enduring.
Is the spring coming?" he said. "What is it like?"... "It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine.
Walter loves the sea, and I need it in some elemental way that I cannot even come close to verbalizing. I become dim and shriveled somehow at my very core if I am away from the sea too long. When I return to it I seem to fill up and overflow with it, soaking in the vast, sighing wetness of it like a parched vine in a long, soft spring rain.
Dirty days hath September April June and November From January up to May The rain it raineth every day All the rest have thirty-one Without a blessed gleam of sun And if any of them had two-and-thirty They'd be just as wet and twice as dirty." "April hath put a spirit of youth in everything.
This world could not exist if it were not so simple.
The ground has been tilled a thousand years, yet its powers remain ever the same; a little rain, a little sun, and each spring it grows green again.
Bears, dragons, tempestuous on mountain and river, Startle the forest and make the heights tremble. Clouds darken beneath the darkness of rain, streams pale with a pallor of mist. The gods of Thunder and Lightning Shatter the whole range.
Are we to look at cherry blossoms only in full bloom, the moon only when it is cloudless? To long for the moon while looking on the rain, to lower the blinds and be unaware of the passing of the spring - these are even more deeply moving. Branches about to blossom or gardens strewn with flowers are worthier of our admiration.
A warm, rainy day-this is how it feels when friends get together.
Friend refreshes friend then, as flowers do each others, in a spring rain.
For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
the flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.
Hark! the hours are softly calling Bidding Spring arise To listen to the rain-drops falling From the cloudy skies To listen to Earth’s weary voices Louder every day Bidding her no longer linger On her charm’d way But hasten to her task of beauty Scarcely yet begun.
Now the noisy winds are still; April's coming up the hill! All the spring is in her train, Led by shining ranks of rain; Pit, pat, patter, clatter, Sudden sun and clatter patter!... All things ready with a will, April's coming up the hill!
When the clouds shake their hyssops, and the rain Like holy water falls upon the plain, 'Tis sweet to gaze upon the springing grain And see your harvest born. And sweet the little breeze of melody The blackbord puffs upon the budding tree, While the wild poppy lights upon the lea And blazes 'mid the corn.
Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby. The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk. The rain makes running pools in the gutter. The rain plays a little sellp-song on our roof at night- And I love the rain.
Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted;
If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returning Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them full of refreshment; That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain.
I slumbered spring's morning and missed the dawn from everywhere, I heard the cry of birds. That night the sound of wind and rain came. Who knows how many petals had fallen?
The roofs are shining from the rain, The sparrows twitter as they fly, And with a windy April grace The little clouds go by. Yet the back yards are bare and brown With only one unchanging tree- I could not be so sure of Spring Save that it sings in me.