Quote

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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William Allingham
Age: 65 †
Born: 1824
Born: March 19
Died: 1889
Died: November 18
Poet
Writer
Tree
Yellow
Boughs
Wish
Wander
Creep
Love
Rings
Moss
Bright
Wandering
Ting
King
Creeps
Stooping
Across
Blowing
Fern
Kings
Bees
Primrose
Spring
Ring
Ferns

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Oh, bring again my heart's content, Thou Spirit of the Summer-time!
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Winds and waters keepA hush more dead than any sleep.
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Writing is learning to say nothing, more cleverly every day.
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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.
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History of Ireland--lawlessness and turbulency, robbery and oppression, hatred and revenge, blind selfishness everywhere--no principle, no heroism. What can be done with it?
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Sin we have explain'd away Unluckily, the sinners stay.
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One who can see without seeming to see-- That's an observer as good as three.
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Soul's Castle fell at one blast of temptation, But many a worm had pierced the foundation.
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Round the world and home again, that's the sailor's way!
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Solitude is very sad, Too much company twice as bad.
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Bare twigs in April enhance our pleasure We know the good time is yet to come.... Bare twigs in Autumn are signs for sadness We feel the good time is well-nigh past.
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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.
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Tantarrara! the joyous Book of Spring Lies open, writ in blossoms.
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I believe in Success, And in Comfort no less I believe all the rest is but patter.
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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.
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