Jocund Quotes & Sayings

E'en in mid-harvest, while the jocund swain Pluck'd from the brittle stalk the golden grain, Oft have I seen the war of winds contend, And prone on earth th' infuriate storm descend, Waste far and wide, and by the roots uptorn, The heavy harvest sweep through ether borne, As light straw and rapid stubble fly In dark'ning whirlwinds round the wintry sky. — Virgil

The virtuous to those mansions go
Where pleasures unembitter'd flow,
Where, leading up a jocund band,
Vigor and Youth dance hand in hand,
Whilst Zephyr, with harmonious gales,
Pipes softest music through the vales,
And Spring and Flora, gaily crown'd,
With velvet carpet spread the ground;
With livelier blush where roses bloom,
And every shrub expires perfume. — Charles Churchill

And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly, To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die. — William Shakespeare

Thou mak'st me merry: I am full of pleasure; let us be jocund — William Shakespeare

And jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops ... — William Shakespeare

The day succeeding this remarkable Midsummer night, proved no common day. I do not mean that it brought signs in heaven above, or portents on the earth beneath; nor do I allude to meteorological phenomena, to storm, flood, or whirlwind. On the contrary: the sun rose jocund, with a July face. Morning decked her beauty with rubies, and so filled her lap with roses, that they fell from her in showers, making her path blush: the Hours woke fresh as nymphs, and emptying on the early hills their dew-vials, they stepped out dismantled of vapour: shadowless, azure, and glorious, they led the sun's steeds on a burning and unclouded course. — Charlotte Bronte

And the jocund rebecks sound To many a youth, and many a maid, Dancing in the checkered shade. And young and old come forth to play On a sunshine holiday. — John Milton

When age is jocond it makes sport for death.
[When age is jocund, it makes sport for death.] — George Herbert

Night's candles have burned out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountaintops. Hope tinged with melancholy - like life. — William Shakespeare