A Quote by William Wordsworth
Look at the fate of summer flowers, which blow at daybreak, droop ere even-song.
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Eyes that droop like summer flowers.
In the other gardens
And all up the vale,
From the autumn bonfies
See the smoke trail!
Pleasant summer over
And all the summer flowers,
The red fire blazes,
the grey smoke towers.
Sing a song of seasons!
Something bright in all,
Flowers in the summer
Fires in the fall!
The flowers of Spring may wither, the hope of Summer fade, The Autumn droop in Winter, the birds forsake the shade; The winds be lull'd—the Sun and Moon forget their old decree, But we in Nature's latest hour, O Lord! will cling to Thee.
Fair summer droops, droop men and beasts therefore: So fair a summer look for never more. All good things vanish, less than in a day, Peace, plenty, pleasure, suddenly decay. Go not yet away, bright soul of the sad year; The earth is hell when thou leav'st to appear.
Look to the lilies how they grow! 'Twas thus the Saviour said, that we, Even in the simplest flowers that blow, God's ever-watchful care might see.
Here is the ghost
Of a summer that lived for us,
Ere is a promise
Of summer to be.
Sing a song of seasons; something bright in all, flowers in the summer, fires in the fall.
But do not look down on even the most minute of things; for with the coming of daybreak, even the tiniest particles of dust in this world sing and dance in the sunlight.
When I look at life I try to be as agnostic and unmetaphysical as possible. So I have to admit that, most probably, we do not have a fate. But I think that's something that draws us to novels - that the characters always have a fate. Even if it's a terrible fate, at least they have one.
There are souls which fall from heaven like flowers, but ere they bloom are crushed under the foul tread of some brutal hoof.
All flowers will droop in the absence of the sun that waked their sweets.
And writers say, as the most forward bud
Is eaten by the canker ere it blow,
Even so by love the young and tender wit
Is turn'd to folly, blasting in the bud,
Losing his verdure even in the prime,
And all the fair effects of future hopes.
Pity it is we drowse too soon
Pity it is we fall asleep
Ere our song encompass the height
Ere our hand inherit the deep
But still the block of Vengeance firm doth stand, and Fate, as swordsmith, hammers blow on blow.
Perfumes are the feelings of flowers, and as the human heart, imagining itself alone and unwatched, feels most deeply in the night-time, so seems it as if the flowers, in musing modesty, await the mantling eventide ere they give themselves up wholly to feeling...
'Sweet Summer Day' was inspired by wanting to write the perfect summer song! Both Chaeyoung and myself had ideas for lyrics, and the song formed naturally!
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