Page:Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922).djvu/911

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WIND

The winds that never moderation knew,
Afraid to blow too much, too faintly blew;
Or out of breath with joy, could not enlarge
Their straighten'd lungs or conscious of their charge.
Dryden—Astroea Redux. L. 242.
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{{Hoyt quote
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 | text = <poem>Perhaps the wind
Wails so in winter for the summer's dead,
And all sad sounds are nature's funeral cries
For what has been and is not.
George Eliot—The Spanish Gypsy. Bk. I.


But certain winds will make men's temper bad.
George Eliot—The Spanish Gypsy. Bk. I.
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{{Hoyt quote
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 | text = <poem>The wind moans, like a long wail from some despairing soul shut out in the awful storm!
W. H. Gibson—Pastoral Days. Winter.


The wind, the wandering wind
Of the golden summer eves—
Whence is the thrilling magic
Of its tunes amongst the leaves?
Oh, is it from the waters,
Or from the long, tall grass?
Or is it from the hollow rocks
Through which its breathings pass?
Felicia D. Hemans—The Wandering Wind.
e
A little wind kindles, much puts out the fire.
 | author = Herbert
 | work = J acuta Prudentum.


To a crazy ship all winds are contrary.
 | author = Herbert
 | work = J acuta Prudentum.


An ill wind that bloweth no man good—
The blower of which blast is she.
John Heywood—Idleness. St. 5.
 | seealso = (See also Henry IV, Henry VI, Tobser)
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{{Hoyt quote
 | num =
 | text = <poem>Madame, bear in mind
That princes govern all things—save the wind.
Victor Hugo—The Infanta's Rose.


He stayeth his rough wind in the day of the
east wind.
Isaiah. XXVII. 8.


The wind bloweth where it listeth.
John. III. 8.
, 12
I hear the wind among the trees
Playing the celestial symphonies;
I see the branches downward bent,
Like keys of some great instrument.
 | author = Longfellow
 | work = A Day of Sunshine. St. 3.


Chill airs and wintry winds! my ear
Has grown familiar with your song;
I hear it in the opening year,
I listen, and it cheers me long.
 | author = Longfellow
 | work = Woods in Winter. St. 7.


It's a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds'
cries;
I never hear the west wind but tears are in my
eyes.
For it comes from the west lands, the old brown
hills,
WIND 873
And April's in the West wind, and daffodils.
Masefield—The West Wind.


The winds with wonder whist,
Smoothly the waters kisst.
 | author = Milton
 | work = Hymn on the Nativity. St. 5.


While rocking winds are piping loud.
 | author = Milton
 | work = Il Penseroso. L. 126.


When the gust hath blown his fill,
Ending on the rustling leaves,
With minute drops from off the eaves.
 | author = Milton
 | work = Il Penseroso. L. 128.
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{{Hoyt quote
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 | text = Never does a wilder song
Steal the breezy lyre along,
When the wind in odors dying,
Wooes it with enamor'd sighing.
Moore—To Rosa.


Loud wind, strong wind, sweeping o'er the mountains,
Fresh wind, free wind, blowing from the sea,
Pour forth thy vials like streams from airy mountains,
Draughts of life to me.
D. M. Mulock—North W ind.


When the stormy winds do blow.
Martynt Parker—Ye Gentlemen of England.
 | seealso = (See also Campbell)
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{{Hoyt quote
 | num =
 | text = <poem>Cum ventis litigare.
To strive with the winds.
Petronids Arbiter. 83.


Who walketh upon the wings of the wind.
Psalms. CIV. 3. .


And the South Wind—he was dressed
With a ribbon round his breast
That floated, flapped, and fluttered
In a riotous unrest
And a drapery of mist
From the shoulder to the wrist
Floating backward with the motion
Of the waving hand he kissed.
James Whttcomb Riley—The South Wind
and the Sun.


A young man who had been troubling society
with impalpable doctrines of a new civilization
which he called "the Kingdom of Heaven" had
been put out of the way; and I can imagine that
believer in material power murmuring as he
went homeward, "it will all blow over now."
Yes. The wind from the Kingdom of Heaven *
has blown over the world, and shall blow for
centuries yet.
George W. Russell—The Economics of Ireland. P. 23.


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-1!
Hear bow gay!
Clinton Scollard—The Wind.