Hoyt & Roberts, comps. Hoyts New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations. 1922.
In lang, lang days o simmer, When the clear and cloudless sky Refuses ae wee drap o rain To Nature parched and dry, The genial night, wi balmy breath, Gars verdure spring anew, An ilka blade o grass Keps its ain drap o dew. BallantineIts Ain Drap o Dew.
O thou who passest through our valleys in Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat That flames from their large nostrils! Thou, O Summer, Oft pitchest here thy golden tent, and oft Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair. Wm. BlakeTo Summer.
Oh, fathers gone to market-town, he was up before the day, And Jamies 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, Wheres Polly? R. W. GilderA Midsummer Song.
Sumer is y cumen in. Famous old Round. The music is the oldest piece of polyphonic and canonical composition in existence. This portion was written probably in 1226 by a monk, John of Fornsete, at the Abbey of Reading. Original is in Harleian MS. 978.
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! Rossiter JohnsonNinety-Nine in the Shade.
That beautiful season * * * the Summer of All-Saints! Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood. LongfellowEvangeline. Pt. I. St. 2.
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. LongfellowA Summer Day by the Sea.
Whereer you walk cool gales shall fan the glade, Trees where you sit shall crowd into a shade. Whereer you tread the blushing flowers shall rise, And all things flourish where you turn your eyes. PopePastorals. Summer.
But see, the shepherds shun the noonday heat, The lowing herds to murmuring brooks retreat, To closer shades the panting flocks remove; Ye gods! and is there no relief for love? PopePastorals. Summer.
The summer dawns reflected hue To purple changed Loch Katrine blue, Mildly and soft the western breeze Just kissd the lake, just stirrd the trees, And the pleased lake, like maiden coy, Trembled but dimpled not for joy. ScottLady of the Lake. Canto III. St. 2.
From brightening fields of ether fair-disclosed, Child of the Sun, refulgent Summer comes, In pride of youth, and felt through Natures depth; He comes, attended by the sultry Hours, And ever-fanning breezes, on his way. ThomsonSeasons. Summer. L. 1.
All-conquering Heat, O, intermit thy wrath! And on my throbbing temples, potent thus, Beam not so fierce! incessant still you flow, And still another fervent flood succeeds, Pourd on the head profuse. In vain I sigh, And restless turn, and look around for night; Night is far off; and hotter Hours approach. ThomsonSeasons. Summer. L. 451.