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

More quotes by William Allingham

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Pluck not the wayside flower It is the traveler's dower.
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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!.
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A man who keeps a diary pays, Due toll to many tedious days But life becomes eventful—then, His busy hand forgets the pen. Most books, indeed, are records less Of fulness than of emptiness.
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One who can see without seeming to see-- That's an observer as good as three.
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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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Tantarrara! the joyous Book of Spring Lies open, writ in blossoms.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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The mother's kiss is the sweetest thing ever.
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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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Sin we have explain'd away Unluckily, the sinners stay.
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Winds and waters keepA hush more dead than any sleep.
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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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Oh, bring again my heart's content, Thou Spirit of the Summer-time!
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She danced a jig, she sung a song that took my heart away.
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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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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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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Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods and day by day the dead leaves fall and melt.
William Allingham