Summer.

    O come, unpack the heart of care!
        Kingcups sun the meadows o'er,
    The yellowbugle sudden blows
    By the river's tidal flows,
                And the heavens are bare.

    Room, room, and open sky,
        River or brook or lake hard by,
    Buttercups, daisies, grasses, clover,
    Bobolinks, meadowlarks - these love I!
                Whiskodink!


    Sail, swallows, sail this emerald sea
        Waving to the west wind's breath!
    Earth has few other fields like these,
    Sweet of sun and tidal breeze,
                And the droning bee.

    Room, room, and open sky,
    River or brook or lake hard by,
        Buttercups, daisies, grasses, clover,
    Bobolinks, meadowlarks - these love I!
                Bobolink!

    And now the white clouds sail along,
        Azure-domed and idle free!
    The air is lush with honeyed blooms,
    Flashing go the summer's looms,
                List her cheery song:


    Room, room, and open sky,
    River or brook or lake hard by,
        Buttercups, daisies, grasses, clover,
    Bobolinks, meadowlarks - these love I!
                Whiskodink!

Theodore Harding Rand

Theodore Harding Rand was a Canadian educator, poet, and the first chief superintendent of education for New Brunswick, and later Nova Scotia. Born on February 8, 1835, in Carleton County, New Brunswick, Rand had a profound influence on the educational systems in both provinces. He was also a noted poet, contributing significantly to Canadian literature in the 19th century. He passed away on May 29, 1900.

Theodore Harding Rand

Glory-Roses.

Theodore Harding Rand, Simple Poetry

The Whitethroat.

Theodore Harding Rand, Simple Poetry

Repose.

Theodore Harding Rand, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Summer

I.

Hang out your loveliest star, O Night! O Night!
Your richest rose, O Dawn!
To greet sweet Summer, her, who, clothed in light,
Leads Earth's best hours on.
Hark! how the wild birds of the woods
Throat it within the dewy solitudes!
The brook sings low and soft,
The trees make song,
As, from her heaven aloft
Comes blue-eyed Summer like a girl along.

II.

And as the Day, her lover, leads her in
How bright his beauty glows!
How red his lips, that ever try to win
Her mouth's delicious rose!
And from the beating of his heart
Warm winds arise and sighing thence depart;
And from his eyes and hair
The light and dew
Fall round her everywhere,
And Heaven above her is an arch of blue.

III.

Come to the fores...

Madison Julius Cawein

Summer.

        I.

Now Lucifer ignites her taper bright
    To greet the wild-flowered Dawn,
Who leads the tasseled Summer draped with light
    Down heaven's gilded lawn.
Hark to the minstrels of the woods,
Tuning glad harps in haunted solitudes!
    List to the rillet's music soft,
        The tree's hushed song:
    Flushed from her star aloft
Comes blue-eyed Summer stepping meek along.


        II.

And as the lusty lover leads her in,
    Clad in soft blushes red,
With breezy lips her love he tries to win,
    Doth many a tear-drop shed:
While airy sighs, dyed in his heart,
Like Cupid's arrows, flame-tipped o'er her dart,
    He bends his yellow head and craves
        The timid maid
    For one sweet kiss, and laves

Madison Julius Cawein

Summer.

Tis Summer, I know by the blue of the sky;
By the trees' deeper green, as beneath them I lie;
And more than all these, by the lovely wild rose
That now in the woodland its pink blossom shows.

Now ring the sharp scythes of the mowers all day,
And they spread to the air the sweet-scented hay;
They pile up the wagon ere daylight is done,
And singing come home with the set of the sun.

I feel the warm west wind fan gently my cheek
As I sit on the grass, far too happy to speak;
And then in the twilight I see the faint spark
Of the fire-fly, flitting alone in the dark.

Oh! long happy days, when 'tis full of delight
To roam in the meadows from morning till night!
Oh! summer, sweet summer! glide slowly away,
For I love in your warmth and your fragrance to ...

H. P. Nichols

The "Bull Spring."

When the burning sun of Summer shines from out a brassy sky,
And has parched and browned the meadows, and the creek's run dry,
O sweet it is to wander there and hear the water sing
It's rippling song of gladness from the
                                            Old
                                                "Bull
                                                    Spring!"

Since Logan and the pioneers first stood upon its bank,
And heard it gurgle from the rock, and of its waters drank,
With ceaseless music in its flow, like silvery chimes that ring,
Has been the song of gladness from the
                                            Old
                                                "Bull
                                                    Spring!"

A...

George W. Doneghy

Summer Songs

I

How thick the grass,
    How green the shade -
All for love
    And lovers made.

Wood-lilies white
    As hidden lace -
Open your bodice,
    That's their place.

See how the sun-god
    Overpowers
The summer lying
    Deep in flowers;

With burning kisses
    Of bright gold
Fills her young womb
    With joy untold;

And all the world
    Is lad and lass,
A blue sky
    And a couch of grass.

Summer is here -
    let us drain
It all! it may
    Not come again.


II

How the leaves thicken
    On the boughs,
And the birds make
Their lyric vows.

O the beating, breaking
    Heart of things,
The pulse and passion -
    How it ...

Richard Le Gallienne

Summer Song Of The Swallow.

You will journey many a weary day and long,
Ere you will see so restful and sweet a place,
As this, my home, my nest so downy and warm,
The labor of many happy and hopeful days;
But its low brown walls are laid and softly lined,
And oh, full happily now my rest I take,
And care not I when it lightly rocks in the wind,
For the branch above though it bends will never break;
And close by my side rings out the voice of my mate - my lover;
Oh, the days are long, and the days are bright - and
    Summer will last forever.

Now the stream that divides us from perfect bliss
Seems floating past so narrow - so narrow,
You could span its wave such a morn as this,
With a moment winged like a golden arrow,
And the sweet wind waves all the tasselled broom,
And over the...

Marietta Holley