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.

The Indian Summer, the dead Summer's soul.

The Indian Summer, the dead Summer's soul.

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.

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?"

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.

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.

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.

Very hot and still the air was,
Very smooth the gliding river,
Motionless the sleeping shadows.

Very hot and still the air was,
Very smooth the gliding river,
Motionless the sleeping shadows.

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?