Summer Days

Summer Days

The summer days, with softest breath
And faces shining bright with love,
With fleecy clouds so still and white.
At anchor in the blue above,
On silken wings are gliding past,
Like shadows that are fleeing fast.

The clover blossoms deck the dale
And lend their sweetness to the air,
The breezes waft the rich perfume
That sweetens all our toil and care.
The lovely vales are clad in green.
Reposing calm the hills between.

The piping of the quail is heard
Beside the fields of growing corn,
And sweetly now the pewee sings
At dawning of the dewy morn.
The chattering swallow quits her nest
And skims the sky from east to west.

The dove is cooing to her mate
In love's most soft and tender tones
Upon the pine tree's crested top.
At rest among the pendent cones.
The robin with her golden breast
Is warbling near her mossy nest.

The blushing morn whose balmy breath
Is wafted o'er the meadows sweet,
Awakens now the pearly drops
That sparkle when the sun they meet,
The sun that rises in his pow'r
To kiss with gladness leaf and flow'r.

His flaming chariot mounts the sky
And pours over all his golden light,
Then in the noonday's fervid glow
His radiance dims our dazzled sight;
And ever follows in his train
The ripening fruit and growing grain.

The bees improve the shining hours
In storing sweets for coming time.
When winter's cold and relentless breath
Shall change to frost this sunny clime,
The hum of the insects fills the air
With life and motion everywhere.

And when behind the gold-topped hills
The radiant orb sinks in the west,
We breathe the cool refreshing air
That gives the weary toiler rest.
The fire-flies fleck the atmosphere.
Their torches gleaming soft and clear.

But summer's fleeing fast away,
Her shining wealth must soon depart,
But ne'er in life should we forget
The cheerful summer of the heart,
But live in joyous, sweet content.
Till life's bright dream of hope is spent.
July 9th, 1879.