Poems (Gifford)/Summer
For works with similar titles, see Summer.
SUMMER.
Oh, bright, sweet summertide! we give to thee
Our truest, heartiest welcome. Through long weeks
Of dreariness and dulness we have dreamt
Of thy unnumbered glories, and have watched
With earnest longing for thy first approach.
Now thou hast come, and we are glad indeed.
Our truest, heartiest welcome. Through long weeks
Of dreariness and dulness we have dreamt
Of thy unnumbered glories, and have watched
With earnest longing for thy first approach.
Now thou hast come, and we are glad indeed.
No lack of verdure now; the stately trees,
That all the winter and far into spring
Seemed bare and dead, flutter their leafy plumes
Responsive to the zephyr's loving kiss,
Blending a strength and beauty all their own.
That all the winter and far into spring
Seemed bare and dead, flutter their leafy plumes
Responsive to the zephyr's loving kiss,
Blending a strength and beauty all their own.
How green are all the meadows and how gay,
Until the mower comes with ruthless scythe,
And then what sweetness follows in his train!
Until the mower comes with ruthless scythe,
And then what sweetness follows in his train!
And what a world of blossom everywhere!
The wild rose decorates the wayside hedge
With long festoons richly bedight with gems,
And its still fairer garden sister blooms
In grand profusion, and variety
Of habit, and of colour, and of form.
Who can compute the multitude of flowers
That yield their grace and fragrance to enhance
The gladness of this yearly festival?
The wild rose decorates the wayside hedge
With long festoons richly bedight with gems,
And its still fairer garden sister blooms
In grand profusion, and variety
Of habit, and of colour, and of form.
Who can compute the multitude of flowers
That yield their grace and fragrance to enhance
The gladness of this yearly festival?
And oh, the woods! the cool, refreshing woods,
Where nature vegetates in wildest mood,
Where giant trees almost exclude the sky,
And branches of the lavish undergrowth
Of hazel and of hornbeam meet o'erhead
In tangled masses, and where all around
In tropical luxuriance the brake
Expands its countless fronds, and various ferns
Vie with each other the fair scene to grace,
While the free honeysuckle rampant climbs,
And trailing ivy, or abundant grass,
Or soft moss carpets the entire expanse.
Where nature vegetates in wildest mood,
Where giant trees almost exclude the sky,
And branches of the lavish undergrowth
Of hazel and of hornbeam meet o'erhead
In tangled masses, and where all around
In tropical luxuriance the brake
Expands its countless fronds, and various ferns
Vie with each other the fair scene to grace,
While the free honeysuckle rampant climbs,
And trailing ivy, or abundant grass,
Or soft moss carpets the entire expanse.
And oh, the waving cornfields! green as yet,
But promising a golden store ere long.
Oh, the soft airs that play around our cheeks!
And oh, the universal harmony
Of ever-varying sound! oh, the calm sea,
Whose myriad wavelets glitter in the sun!
Oh, the broad, shining river, mirroring
The boundless azure sky!
But promising a golden store ere long.
Oh, the soft airs that play around our cheeks!
And oh, the universal harmony
Of ever-varying sound! oh, the calm sea,
Whose myriad wavelets glitter in the sun!
Oh, the broad, shining river, mirroring
The boundless azure sky!
'Tis lovely all.
Thou peerless summer, words are vain, and poor,
And weak indeed to photograph thy charms;
But, drinking in thy joy, we love thee well,
And to our bounteous Father we look up
And sing, "Oh, Lord, how manifold Thy works,
In wisdom hast Thou made them all; the earth
Is teeming with Thy riches!"
Thou peerless summer, words are vain, and poor,
And weak indeed to photograph thy charms;
But, drinking in thy joy, we love thee well,
And to our bounteous Father we look up
And sing, "Oh, Lord, how manifold Thy works,
In wisdom hast Thou made them all; the earth
Is teeming with Thy riches!"
Yet, e'en now
Our hearts look ever forward yearningly
To a far fairer clime, a fuller life,
An endless summertide of all our hopes,
That eye not yet hath seen, nor heart conceived;
Where storm can ne'er disturb its perfect peace,
Where cloud can never dim, nor sunblaze scorch,
Nor thorn, nor thistle, neither drought, nor blight
Can introduce one marring element;
But where the ransomed rest in pastures green,
Entirely blest, entirely satisfied!
Our hearts look ever forward yearningly
To a far fairer clime, a fuller life,
An endless summertide of all our hopes,
That eye not yet hath seen, nor heart conceived;
Where storm can ne'er disturb its perfect peace,
Where cloud can never dim, nor sunblaze scorch,
Nor thorn, nor thistle, neither drought, nor blight
Can introduce one marring element;
But where the ransomed rest in pastures green,
Entirely blest, entirely satisfied!