Reference > Quotations > Hoyt & Roberts, comps. > Hoyt’s New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations
Hoyt & Roberts, comps.  Hoyt’s New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations.  1922.
One swallow does not make spring.
        Aristotle—Ethic. Nicom. Bk. I.
Una golondrina sola no hace verano.
  One swallow alone does not make the summer.
        Cervantes—Don Quixote. Pt. I. Ch. XIII.
Down comes rain drop, bubble follows;
  On the house-top one by one
Flock the synagogue of swallows,
  Met to vote that autumn’s gone.
        Theophile Gautier—Life, a Bubble. A Bird’s-Eye View Thereof.
But, as old Swedish legends say,
Of all the birds upon that day,
The swallow felt the deepest grief,
And longed to give her Lord relief,
And chirped when any near would come,
“Hugswala swala swal honom!”
Meaning, as they who tell it deem,
Oh, cool, oh, cool and comfort Him!
        Leland—The Swallow.
The swallow is come!
The swallow is come!
  O, fair are the seasons, and light
Are the days that she brings,
With her dusky wings,
  And her bosom snowy white!
        Longfellow—Hyperion. Bk. II. Ch. I.
One swallowe proveth not that summer is neare.
        Northbrooke—Treatise against Dancing. (1577).
It’s surely summer, for there’s a swallow:
Come one swallow, his mate will follow,
The bird rare quicken and wheel and thicken.
        Christina G. Rossetti—A Bird Song. St. 2.
    There goes the swallow,—
    Could we but follow!
    Hasty swallow, stay,
    Point us out the way;
Look back swallow, turn back swallow, stop swallow.
        Christina G. Rossetti—Songs in a Cornfield. St. 7.
  The swallow follows not summer more willing than we your lordship.
        Timon of Athens. Act III. Sc. 6. L. 31.
Now to the Goths as swift as swallow flies.
        Titus Andronicus. Act IV. Sc. 2. L. 172.
              The swallow sweeps
The slimy pool, to build his hanging house.
        Thomson—The Seasons. Spring. L. 651.
When autumn scatters his departing gleams,
Warn’d of approaching winter, gather’d, play
The swallow-people; and toss’d wide around,
O’er the calm sky, in convolution swift,
The feather’d eddy floats; rejoicing once,
Ere to their wintry slumbers they retire.
        Thomson—Seasons. Autumn. L. 836.

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