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THE MOST EXTENSIVE COLLECTION OF QUOTATIONS ON THE INTERNET |
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Happy insect! what can be In happiness compared to thee? Fed with nourishment divine, The dewy morning's gentle wine! Nature waits upon thee still, And thy verdant cup does fill; 'Tis fill'd wherever thou dost tread, Nature's self's thy Ganymede. - Abraham Cowley, Anacreontiques (no. 10, Grasshopper) Green little vaulter, in the sunny grass, Catching your heart up at the feel of June, Sole noise that's heard amidst the lazy noon, When ev'n the bees lag at the summoning brass. - Leigh Hunt (James Henry Leigh Hunt), To the Grasshopper and the Cricket When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead; That is the grasshopper's--he takes the lead In summer luxury--he has never done With his delights, for when tired out with fun, He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed. - John Keats (1), On the Grasshopper and Cricket
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