Clinton Scollard famous quotes
Last updated: Sep 5, 2024
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In the under-wood and the over-wood there is murmur and trill this day, For every bird is in lyric mood, And the wind will have its way.
-- Clinton Scollard -
Upon my lips the breath of song, Within my heart a rhyme, Howe'er time trips or lags along, I keep abreast with time!
-- Clinton Scollard -
Mortals, while through the world you go, Hope may succor and faith befriend, Yet happy your hearts if you can but know, Love awaits at the journey's end!
-- Clinton Scollard -
And from the phlox and mignonette Rich attars drift on every hand; And when star-vestured twilight comes The pale moths weave a saraband. And crickets in the aisles of grass With their clear fifing pierce the hush; And somewhere you many hear anear The passion of the hermit thrush.
-- Clinton Scollard -
A bird in the boughs sang "June," And "June" hummed a bee In a Bacchic glee As he tumbled over and over Drunk with the honey-dew.
-- Clinton Scollard -
To heal mine aching moods, Give me God's virgin woods.
-- Clinton Scollard -
It is daffodil time, so the robins all cry, For the sun's a big daffodil up in the sky, And when down the midnight the owl call to-whoo! Why, then the round moon is a daffodil too; Now sheer to the bough-tops the sap starts to climb, So, merry my masters, it's daffodil time.
-- Clinton Scollard -
Some must delve when the dawn is nigh; Some must toil when the noonday beams; But when might comes, and the soft winds sigh, Every man is a King of Dreams.
-- Clinton Scollard -
O the wind is a faun in the spring time When the ways are green for the tread of the May! List! hark his lay! Whist! mark his play! T-r-r-r-l! Hear how gay!
-- Clinton Scollard
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Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.
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When I cannot understand my Father's leading, And it seems to be but hard and cruel fate, Still I hear that gentle whisper ever pleading, God is working, God is faithful-Only wait.
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Inspiration may be a form of superconsciousness, or perhaps of subconsciousness - I wouldn't know. But I am sure it is the antithesis of self-consciousness.
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There, like the wind through woods in riot, Through him the gale of life blew high; The tree of man was never quiet: Then 'twas the Roman, now 'tis I.
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Sun and wind and beat of sea, Great lands stretching endlessly... Where be bonds to bind the free? All the world was made for me!
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The oldOld winds that blewWhen chaos was, what doThey tell the clattered trees that IShould weep?
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For in the voyage of the heart, there is a freight of hatred, and the wind of wrath blows shrill.
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The bird is powered by its own life and by its motivation.
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It is not only fine feathers that make fine birds.
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I don't mind being 65, but nobody is gonna tell me to come in at 5:30 to have the early bird special.
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