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Did he so often lodge in open field,
In winter's cold and summer's parching heat,
To conquer read more
Did he so often lodge in open field,
In winter's cold and summer's parching heat,
To conquer France, his true inheritance?
And the daughter of Zion is left as a cottage in a vineyard, as a
lodge in a garden read more
And the daughter of Zion is left as a cottage in a vineyard, as a
lodge in a garden of cucumbers, as a besieged city.
These are the forgeries of jealousy;
And never, since the middle summer's spring,
Met we on hill, read more
These are the forgeries of jealousy;
And never, since the middle summer's spring,
Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead,
By paved fountain or by rushy brook,
Or in the beached margent of the sea,
To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
But with thy brawls thou hast disturbed our sport.
In lang, lang days o' simmer,
When the clear and cloudless sky
Refuses ae weep drap o' read more
In lang, lang days o' simmer,
When the clear and cloudless sky
Refuses ae weep drap o' rain
To Nature parched and dry,
The genial night, wi' balmy breath,
Gars verdue, spring anew,
An' ilka blade o' grass
Keps its ain drap o' dew.
Very hot and still the air was,
Very smooth the gliding river,
Motionless the sleeping shadows.
Very hot and still the air was,
Very smooth the gliding river,
Motionless the sleeping shadows.
Summer, as my friend Coleridge waggishly writes, has set in with
its usual severity.
Summer, as my friend Coleridge waggishly writes, has set in with
its usual severity.
I question not if thrushes sing,
If roses load the air;
Beyond my heart I need not read more
I question not if thrushes sing,
If roses load the air;
Beyond my heart I need not reach
When all is summer there.
Now simmer blinks on flowery braes,
And o'er the crystal streamlet plays.
Now simmer blinks on flowery braes,
And o'er the crystal streamlet plays.