Where'er you walk cool gales shall fan the glade,
Trees where you sit shall crowd into a shade.
read more

Where'er you walk cool gales shall fan the glade,
Trees where you sit shall crowd into a shade.
Where'er you tread the blushing flowers shall rise,
And all things flourish where you turn your eyes.

Summer time an' the livin' is easy,
Fish are jumpin' an' the cotton is high.
Oh, yo' read more

Summer time an' the livin' is easy,
Fish are jumpin' an' the cotton is high.
Oh, yo' daddy's rich, and yo' ma' is good-lookin',
So hush, little baby, don' yo' cry.

Here is the ghost
Of a summer that lived for us,
Here is a promise
read more

Here is the ghost
Of a summer that lived for us,
Here is a promise
Of summer to be.

Before green apples blush,
Before green nuts embrown,
Why, one day in the country
read more

Before green apples blush,
Before green nuts embrown,
Why, one day in the country
Is worth a month in town.

Oh, the summer night
Has a smile of light
And she sits on a sapphire throne.

Oh, the summer night
Has a smile of light
And she sits on a sapphire throne.

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.

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.

O thou who passest through our valleys in
Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat
read more

O thou who passest through our valleys in
Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat
That flames from their large nostrils! Thou, O Summer,
Oft pitchest here thy golden tent, and oft
Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld
With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.

But see, the shepherds shun the noonday heat,
The lowing herds to murmuring brooks retreat,
To closer read more

But see, the shepherds shun the noonday heat,
The lowing herds to murmuring brooks retreat,
To closer shades the panting flocks remove;
Ye gods! and is there no relief for love?