Sarah Chauncey Woolsey Quotes
Sarah Chauncey Woolsey shares lyrical, tender verses about seasons and healing.
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The Autumn seems to cry for thee, Best lover of the Autumn-days!
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The tasks are done and the tears are shed. Yesterday's errors let yesterday cover; Yesterday's wounds, which smarted and bled, Are healed with the healing that night has shed.
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These are weighty secrets, and we must whisper them.
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Men die but sorrow never dies.
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Slow buds the pink dawn like a rose From out night's gray and cloudy sheath; Softly and still it grows and grows, Petal by petal, leaf by leaf.
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Now the last red ray is gone; Now the twilight shadows hie.
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The sobbing wind is fierce and strong; its cry is like a human wail.
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Spring's last-born darling, clear-eyed, sweet, Pauses a moment, with white twinkling feet, And golden locks in breezy play, Half teasing and half tender, to repeat Her song of May.
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We ring the bells and we raise the strain We hang up garlands everywhere And bid the tapers twinkle fair, And feast and frolic - and then we go Back to the same old lives again.
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Every tear is answered by a blossom, Every sigh with songs and laughter blent, April-blooms upon the breezes toss them. April knows her own, and is content.
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Earth's saddest day and gladdest day were just three days apart!
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True love is not selfish. In time it accustoms itself to anything which secures happiness for its object.
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Dry leaves upon the wall, Which flap like rustling wings and seek escape, A single frosted cluster on the grape Still hangs--and that is all.
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All green and fair the summer lies, Just budded from the bud of spring, With tender blue of wistful skies, And winds that softly sing.
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Every day is a fresh beginning. Every morn is the world made anew.
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Few things are more aggravating than to be forgiven when one has done no wrong.