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a summer day.
The birds chirp gaily in the eaves,
The butterflies flit here and there
At hide-and-seek among the leaves;
The scent of roses fills the air,
The fields are full of growing grain,
Laden with ripening fruit the trees;
The honey-suckle in the lane,
Attracts the ever busy bees.
The butterflies flit here and there
At hide-and-seek among the leaves;
The scent of roses fills the air,
The fields are full of growing grain,
Laden with ripening fruit the trees;
The honey-suckle in the lane,
Attracts the ever busy bees.
Dame Nature, with her sunny face—
She is no longer brown and bare,
And wears her summer robe with grace—
Hath called the children unto her.
They sit upon her lap and play
With daisy chains, and laugh with glee,
O, life is sweet! this Summer day,
And full of joy and melody.
She is no longer brown and bare,
And wears her summer robe with grace—
Hath called the children unto her.
They sit upon her lap and play
With daisy chains, and laugh with glee,
O, life is sweet! this Summer day,
And full of joy and melody.
O heart! sad heart, whom fate has shorn
Of joys, as Winter strips the tree,
Learn, now, from Nature's joys new-born
The lesson she would teach to thee;
And wait in patience and with faith,
Until thy Winter pass away,
And thou shalt reap an aftermath
Of joys, when comes thy Summer day.
Of joys, as Winter strips the tree,
Learn, now, from Nature's joys new-born
The lesson she would teach to thee;
And wait in patience and with faith,
Until thy Winter pass away,
And thou shalt reap an aftermath
Of joys, when comes thy Summer day.
