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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.
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.
Oh, father's gone to market-town, he was up before the day,
And Jamie's after robins, and the man is read more
Oh, father's gone to market-town, he was up before the day,
And Jamie's after robins, and the man is making hay,
And whistling down the hollow goes the boy that minds the mill,
While mother from the kitchen door is calling with a will,
"Polly!--Polly!--The cows are in the corn!
Oh, where's Polly?"
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.
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.
I question not if thrushes sing,
If roses load the air;
Beyond my heart I need not read more
I question not if thrushes sing,
If roses load the air;
Beyond my heart I need not reach
When all is summer there.
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.
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!