There is continual spring, and harvest there Continual, both meeting at one time: For both the boughs do laughing blossoms bear, And with fresh colours deck the wanton prime, And eke attonce the heavy trees they climb, Which seem to labour under their fruits load: The whiles the joyous birds make their pastime Amongst the shady leaves, their sweet above, And their true loves without suspicion tell abroad.
Interpretation
The quote describes the beauty and joy of nature in harmony, where spring and harvest coexist, symbolizing abundance and happiness.
Edmund Spenser's quote reflects a vivid portrayal of nature in all its glory, where the joyful aspects of spring, represented by blooming blossoms and singing birds, coincide with the fruitful abundance of harvest. This duality showcases the richness of life, emphasizing not just the beauty but also the labor and effort underlying nature's bounty. As the trees bear their fruits and birds express their love, the quote captures a moment of harmony and celebration in the natural world.
In practice
In a speech about environmental conservation, one might quote this to highlight the beauty of nature.
But O the exceeding grace_x000D_ Of highest God, that loves his creatures so,_x000D_ And all his works with mercy doth embrace,_x000D_ That blessed angels, he sends to and fro,_x000D_ To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe.
The noblest mind the best contentment has
What though the sea with waves continuall Doe eate the earth, it is no more at all ; Ne is the earth the lesse, or loseth ought : For whatsoever from one place doth fall Is with the tyde unto another brought : For there is nothing lost, that may be found if sought.
No daintie flowre or herbe that growes on grownd, No arborett with painted blossoms drest And smelling sweete, but there it might be fownd To bud out faire, and throwe her sweete smels al arownd.
I hate the day, because it lendeth light_x000D_ _x000D_ To see all things, but not my love to see.
For of the soule the bodie forme doth take; _x000D_ For the soule is forme, and doth the bodie make.
Oh, these vast, calm, measureless mountain days, days in whose light everything seems equally divine, opening a thousand windows to show us God.
I've sucked way too much cement for this year. Bad juju rising off them city sidewalks. I need to babble with a brook or two, inhale starlight, make friends with some trees.
That was when we smelled the rain. It was so strong it seemed like more than just a smell. When we stretched out our hands we could practically feel it rising up from the ground. I don’t know how a person could ever describe that scent.
Nature is slow, but sure; she works no faster than need be; she is the tortoise that wins the race by her perseverance.
A man on foot, on horseback or on a bicycle will see more, feel more, enjoy more in one mile than the motorized tourists can in a hundred miles.
Today on the way home, it snows. Big, soft caressing flakes fall onto our skin like cold moths; the air fills with feathers.
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