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Oh, bring again my heart's content, Thou Spirit of the Summer-time!

William Allingham

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William Allingham
Age: 65 †
Born: 1824
Born: March 19
Died: 1889
Died: November 18
Poet
Writer
Spirit
Heart
Time
Content
Thou
Summer
Bring

More quotes by William Allingham

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Four ducks on a pond, / A grass-bank beyond, / A blue sky of spring, / White clouds on the wing: / What a little thing / To remember for years - / To remember with tears!.
William Allingham
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Before a day was over, Home comes the rover, For mother's kiss - sweeter this Than any other thing!
William Allingham
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Solitude is very sad, Too much company twice as bad.
William Allingham
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If any foes of mine are there, I pardon every one: I hope that man and womankind will do the same by me.
William Allingham
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Yet dearer still that Irish hill than all the world beside It's home, sweet home, where'er I roam, through lands and waterswide.
William Allingham
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She danced a jig, she sung a song that took my heart away.
William Allingham
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The trees are Indian Princes, But soon they'll turn to Ghosts The scanty pears and apples Hang russet on the bough Its Autumn, Autumn, Autumn late, 'Twill soon be Winter now. Robin, Robin Redbreast, O Robin dear! And what will this poor Robin do? For pinching days are near.
William Allingham
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Autumn's the mellow time.
William Allingham
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I have been an Official all my life, without the least turn for it. I never could attain a true official manner, which is highly artificial and handles trifles with ludicrously disproportionate gravity.
William Allingham
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Scarcely a tear to shed Hardly a word to say The end of a Summer's day Sweet Love is dead.
William Allingham
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Ring-ting! I wish I were a primrose, A bright yellow primrose blowing in the spring! The stooping boughs above me, The wandering bee to love me, The fern and moss to creep across, And the elm-tree for our king!
William Allingham
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Politeness costs nothing. Nothing, that is, to him that shows it but if often costs the world very dear.
William Allingham
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Writing is learning to say nothing, more cleverly every day.
William Allingham
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Not like Homer would I write, Not like Dante if I might, Not like Shakespeare at his best, Not like Goethe or the rest, Like myself, however small, Like myself, or not at all.
William Allingham
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Fairies, arouse! Mix with your song Harplet and pipe, Thrilling and clear, Swarm on the boughs! Chant in a throng! Morning is ripe, Waiting to hear.
William Allingham
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One who can see without seeming to see-- That's an observer as good as three.
William Allingham
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Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods and day by day the dead leaves fall and melt.
William Allingham
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The mother's kiss is the sweetest thing ever.
William Allingham
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Pluck not the wayside flower It is the traveler's dower.
William Allingham
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Tantarrara! the joyous Book of Spring Lies open, writ in blossoms.
William Allingham