Quotes
Quotes about Nature
Thou unassuming commonplace
Of Nature.
A creature not too bright or good
For human nature's daily food;
For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours.
Those obstinate questionings
Of sense and outward things,
Fallings from us, vanishings,
Blank misgivings of a creature
Moving about in worlds not realized,
High instincts before which our mortal nature
Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised.
Recognizes ever and anon
The breeze of Nature stirring in his soul.
Meek Nature's evening comment on the shows
That for oblivion take their daily birth
From all the fuming vanities of earth.
To the solid ground
Of Nature trusts the mind that builds for aye.
Nature's old felicities.
Those old credulities, to Nature dear,
Shall they no longer bloom upon the stock
Of history?
Call it not vain: they do not err
Who say that when the poet dies
Mute Nature mourns her worshipper,
And celebrates his obsequies.
I strove with none, for none was worth my strife;
Nature I loved; and next to Nature, Art.
I warm'd both hands against the fire of life;
It sinks, and I am ready to depart.
And muse on Nature with a poet's eye.
Yet truth will sometimes lend her noblest fires,
And decorate the verse herself inspires:
This fact, in virtue's name, let Crabbe attest,--
Though Nature's sternest painter, yet the best.
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods;
There is a rapture on the lonely shore;
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more.
Sighing that Nature form'd but one such man,
And broke the die, in moulding Sheridan.
To him who in the love of Nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language.
Go forth under the open sky, and list
To Nature's teachings.
Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art--
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores.
Blessed is the healthy nature; it is the coherent, sweetly co-operative, not incoherent, self-distracting, self-destructive one!
Nature admits no lie.
And we, with Nature's heart in tune,
Concerted harmonies.
Boughs are daily rifled
By the gusty thieves,
And the book of Nature
Getteth short of leaves.
We hardly know an instance of the strength and weakness of human nature so striking and so grotesque as the character of this haughty, vigilant, resolute, sagacious blue-stocking, half Mithridates and half Trissotin, bearing up against a world in arms, with an ounce of poison in one pocket and a quire of bad verses in the other.
Out from the heart of Nature rolled
The burdens of the Bible old.
In the vaunted works of Art
The master-stroke is Nature's part.
