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Out of the city, far away
With spring to-day!
Where copses tufted with primrose
Give me repose,
Wood-sorrel and wild violet
Soothe my soul's fret.

— William Allingham

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More quotes by William Allingham

Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods
And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt.

Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting,
For fear of little men.

Winds and waters keep
A hush more dead than any sleep.

Scarcely a tear to shed;
Hardly a word to say;
The end of a Summer's day;
Sweet Love is dead.

Everything passes and vanishes;
Everything leaves its trace;
And often you see in a footstep
What you could not see in a face.

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Attribution

Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: William Allingham (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.