Hoyt & Roberts, comps. Hoyts New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations. 1922.
These Winter nights against my window-pane Nature with busy pencil draws designs Of ferns and blossoms and fine spray of pines, Oak-leaf and acorn and fantastic vines, Which she will make when summer comes again Quaint arabesques in argent, flat and cold, Like curious Chinese etchings. T. B. AldrichFrost-Work.
O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors: The north is thine; there hast thou built thy dark, Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs, Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car. William BlakeTo Winter.
When now, unsparing as the scourge of war, Blasts follow blasts and groves dismantled roar; Around their home the storm-pinched cattle lows, No nourishment in frozen pasture grows; Yet frozen pastures every morn resound With fair abundance thundring to the ground. BloomfieldThe Farmers Boy. Winter. St. 2.
Look! the massy trunks Are cased in the pure crystal; each light spray, Nodding and tinkling in the breath of heaven, Is studded with its trembling water-drops, That glimmer with an amethystine light. BryantA Winter Piece. L. 66.
Yet all how beautiful! Pillars of pearl Propping the cliffs above, stalactites bright From the ice roof depending; and beneath, Grottoes and temples with their crystal spires And gleaming columns radiant in the sun. Wm. Henry BurleighWinter.
The tendinous part of the mind, so to speak, is more developed in winter; the fleshy, in summer. I should say winter had given the bone and sinew to literature, summer the tissues and the blood. John BurroughsThe Snow-Walkers.
O Winter! ruler of the inverted year, * * * * I crown thee king of intimate delights, Fireside enjoyments, home-born happiness, And all the comforts that the lowly roof Of undisturbd Retirement, and the hours Of long uninterrupted evening, know. CowperTask. Bk. IV. L. 120.
His breath like silver arrows pierced the air, The naked earth crouched shuddering at his feet, His finger on all flowing waters sweet Forbidding laymotion nor sound was there: Nature was frozen dead,and still and slow, A winding sheet fell oer her body fair, Flaky and soft, from his wide wings of snow. Frances Anne KembleWinter. L. 9.
Every winter, When the great sun has turned his face away, The earth goes down into a vale of grief, And fasts, and weeps, and shrouds herself in sables, Leaving her wedding-garlands to decay Then leaps in spring to his returning kisses. Charles KingsleySaints Tragedy. Act III. Sc. 1.
Up rose the wild old winter-king, And shook his beard of snow; I hear the first young hare-bell ring, Tis time for me to go! Northward oer the icy rocks, Northward oer the sea, My daughter comes with sunny locks: This lands too warm for me! LelandSpring.
Wintry boughs against a wintry sky; Yet the sky is partly blue And the clouds are partly bright. Who can tell but sap is mounting high, Out of sight, Ready to burst through? Christina G. RossettiSpring signals to Winter.
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, The seasons difference, as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winters wind, Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say, This is no flattery. As You Like It. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 5.
When icicles hang by the wall, And Dick, the shepherd, blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall, And milk comes frozen home in pail, When blood is nippd and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit; Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. Loves Labours Lost. Act V. Sc. 2. L. 922.
Lastly came Winter cloathed all in frize, Chattering his teeth for cold that did him chill; Whilst on his hoary beard his breath did freese, And the dull drops, that from his purpled bill As from a limebeck did adown distill: In his right hand a tipped staffe he held, With which his feeble steps he stayed still; For he was faint with cold, and weak with eld; That scarce his loosed limbes he hable was to weld. SpenserFaerie Queene. Canto VII. Legend of Constancie. St. 31.
Under the snowdrifts the blossoms are sleeping, Dreaming their dreams of sunshine and June, Down in the hush of their quiet theyre keeping Trills from the throstles wild summer-sung tune. Harriet Prescott SpoffordUnder the Snowdrifts.
Through the hushd air the whitening Shower descends, At first thin wavering; till at last the Flakes Fall broad, and wide, and fast, dimming the day With a continual flow. The cherished Fields Put on their winter-robe of purest white, Tis brightness all; save where the new Snow melts Along the mazy current. ThomsonSeasons. Winter. L. 229.
Dread Winter spreads his latest glooms, And reigns, tremendous, oer the conquerd Year. How dead the vegetable kingdom lies! How dumb the tuneful! Horror wide extends His desolate domain. ThomsonSeasons. Winter. L. 1,024.
Make we here our camp of winter; And, through sleet and snow, Pitchy knot and beechen splinter On our hearth shall glow. Here, with mirth to lighten duty, We shall lack alone Womans smile and girlhoods beauty, Childhoods lisping tone. WhittierLumbermen. St. 8.