„The wood is decked in light green leaf.
The swallow twitters in delight.
The lonely vine sheds joyous tears
Of interwoven dew and light. Spring weaves a gown of green to clad
The mountain height and wide-spread field.
O when wilt thou, my native land,
In all thy glory stand revealed?“
Spring, p. 61
Anthology of Georgian Poetry (1948)
Ilia Tschawtschawadse
georgischer Schriftsteller und Politiker 1837 - 1907Ähnliche Zitate
— William Wordsworth, buch Lyrical Ballads
Stanza 4.
Lyrical Ballads (1798–1800), Lines written a few miles above Tintern Abbey (1798)
Kontext: If I should be, where I no more can hear
Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams
Of past existence, wilt thou then forget
That on the banks of this delightful stream
We stood together; And that I, so long
A worshipper of Nature, hither came,
Unwearied in that service: rather say
With warmer love, oh! with far deeper zeal
Of holier love. Now wilt thou then forget,
That after many wanderings, many years
Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs,
And this green pastoral landscape, were to me
More dear, both for themselves, and for thy sake.
— Henry Ward Beecher American clergyman and activist 1813 - 1887
Quelle: Dictionary of Burning Words of Brilliant Writers (1895), p. 410
Kontext: When, O crowned Jesus; when, O loving Saviour; when, O patient and just Judge — when wilt Thou come forth from Thy hiding, and change tears to smiles, and groans to joys? When shall that choral song burst forth, sweeping through the air, and circling about Thy throne, which shall proclaim the redemption of the world to the Lord God?
— Lucy Larcom American teacher, poet, author 1824 - 1893
Poems (1869), A Strip of Blue (1870)
Kontext: Here sit I, as a little child;
The threshold of God's door
Is that clear band of chrysoprase;
Now the vast temple floor,
The blinding glory of the dome
I bow my head before.
Thy universe, O God, is home,
In height or depth, to me;
Yet here upon thy footstool green
Content am I to be;
Glad when is oped unto my need
Some sea-like glimpse of Thee.
„What colour are they now, thy quiet waters?
The evening star has brought the evening light,
And filled the river with the green hillside;
The hill-tops waver in the rippling water,
Trembles the absent vine and swells the grape
In thy clear crystal.“
Quis color ille vadis, seras cum propulit umbras<br/>Hesperus et viridi perfudit monte Mosellam!<br/>tota natant crispis iuga motibus et tremit absens<br/>pampinus et vitreis vindemia turget in undis.
— Ausonius, Mosella
Quis color ille vadis, seras cum propulit umbras
Hesperus et viridi perfudit monte Mosellam!
tota natant crispis iuga motibus et tremit absens
pampinus et vitreis vindemia turget in undis.
"Mosella", line 192; translation from Helen Waddell Mediaeval Latin Lyrics ([1929] 1943) p. 31.
— William Wordsworth, buch Lyrical Ballads
Stanza 4
Lyrical Ballads (1798–1800), Lines written a few miles above Tintern Abbey (1798)
„When a stargirl cries, she sheds not tears but light.“
— Jerry Spinelli, buch Stargirl
Quelle: Stargirl
— James Macpherson Scottish writer, poet, translator, and politician 1736 - 1796
"Carthon", pp. 163–164
The Poems of Ossian
— Leonard Cohen Canadian poet and singer-songwriter 1934 - 2016
"Sisters of Mercy"
Songs of Leonard Cohen (1967)
Kontext: When they lay down beside me I made my confession to them.
They touched both my eyes and I touched the dew on their hem.
If your life is a leaf that the seasons tear off and condemn,
They will bind you with love that is graceful and green as a stem.
— Helen Blackwood, Baroness Dufferin and Claneboye British songwriter, composer, poet and author 1807 - 1867
Lament of the Irish Emigrant
„That instructed damsel
Donned a gown of green;“
— Nathalia Crane American writer 1913 - 1998
"The Vestal"
The Janitor's Boy And Other Poems (1924)
Kontext: p>Finally she faltered;
Saw at last, forsooth,
Every gaudy color
Is a bit of truth.
Then the gates were opened;
Miracles were seen;
That instructed damsel
Donned a gown of green;Wore it in a churchyard,
All arrayed with care;
And a painted rainbow
Shone above her there.</p
— William Drummond of Hawthornden British writer 1585 - 1649
To His Lute http://www.bartleby.com/40/198.html
