A SONG OF SUMMER.
By Emma C. Dowd.
The flowers are fringing the swift meadow brooks, The songsters are nesting in shadowy nooks; The birds and the blossoms are thronging to meet us, With loveliness, perfume, and music they greet us,— For Summer, the beautiful, reigns!
The bobolink tilts on the tall, nodding clover, And sings his gay song to us over and over; The wild roses beckon, with deepening blushes, And sweet, from the wood, sounds the warble of thrushes,— For Summer, the beautiful, reigns!
The white lilies sway with the breeze of the morning, In raiment more fair than a monarch's adorning; The bright-throated humming-bird, marvel of fleetness, Comes questing for honey-blooms, draining their sweetness,— For Summer, the beautiful, reigns!
High up in the elm is the oriole courting, A new suit of velvet and gold he is sporting; With gay bits of caroling, tuneful and mellow, He wooes his fair lady-love, clad in plain yellow,— For Summer, the beautiful, reigns!
The blossoms and birds bring us, yearly, sweet token That Nature's glad promises never are broken. Then sing, happy birdlings, nor ever grow weary! Laugh on, merry children, 'tis time to be cheery!— For Summer, the beautiful, reigns!