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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.
All labours draw hame at even,
And can to others say,
"Thanks to the gracious God of read more
All labours draw hame at even,
And can to others say,
"Thanks to the gracious God of heaven,
Whilk sent this summer day."
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.
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.
O for a lodge in a garden of cucumbers!
O for an iceberg or two at control!
read more
O for a lodge in a garden of cucumbers!
O for an iceberg or two at control!
O for a vale that at midday the dew cumbers!
O for a pleasure trip up to the pole!
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?
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds read more
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall Death brag thou wand'rest in his shade
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st.
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So ling lives this, and this gives life to thee.
