The lilacs bloom,
The rivers croon
To willows bending for their kiss,
And scented flowers
Laugh in the showers
That tell of summer's coming bliss.
Again aglow
The roses blow,
Like rubies in the dewy morn;
The world, long bare,
Lets loose her hair,
And million-gemmed is beauty born.
O, wondrous change,
To mortals strange!
But yesterday 'twas cold and drear;
Some magic hand
Hath touched the land,
And, lo, the happy spring is here!
O, Master, we
Give praise to Thee;
Thou answerest kindly when we pray,
And thus is wrought
The boon we sought—
The wondrous miracle of May.
IN SUMMER
In summer, when the rising sun with keen and flashing ray,
Flings arrows at retreating night, and ushers in the day,
When out from every nook and glade the frightened shadows creep,
And scamper off to caverns dark, when life awakes from sleep.
The gentle sunbeams, kiss the dewy teardrops of the night
From off the eyelids of the flowers, with whisp'ring soft and light,
Then stirs my heart, with yearnings sweet
Is thrilled as from above,
Then would I worship at the feet
Of you, of you, my love.
In summer, when the fragrant earth basks in the shimmering glare
Of noontide warmth, and drowsy hum of insects fills the air,
When bashful flowers their glories hide amid the grasses tall,
And nature her siesta takes in hushed and langorous thrall,
When sparkling streamlets through the dells and o'er the mosses croon,
And birds and breezes fold their wings within the arms of June,
Then stirs my heart, with yearnings sweet
Is thrilled as from above,
Then would I slumber, rest, and dream
With you, with you, my love.