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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.
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.
O summer day beside the joyous sea!
O summer day so wonderful and white,
So full of read more
O summer day beside the joyous sea!
O summer day so wonderful and white,
So full of gladness and so full of pain!
Forever and forever shalt thou be
To some the gravestone of a dead delight,
To some the landmark of a new domain.
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.
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.
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.
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.
That beautiful season
. . . the Summer of All-Saints!
Filled was the air with a dreamy read more
That beautiful season
. . . the Summer of All-Saints!
Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the
landscape
Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.
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.