What is summer made of?
Of opening buds and flowers;
Of sunshine and of shadow,
And gracious little showers,
Of birds that in the tree-tops
Sing sweetly all the day;
Of buttercups and daisies,
And breath of new-mown hay.
Of butterflies that hover
O'er every fragrant rose;
Of bees that gather honey
Where the honeysuckle grows.
Of brooks that murmur softly,
And thro' the meadows glide:
Of shadows shifting gently
Adown the mountain-side.
Of rainbows after showers,
Of starlight nights so still;
Of moonbeams shimmering softly
O'er every brook and rill.
Of mornings dawning sweetly
O'er dew-wet grass and flowers,
Oh! summer time is only
A life of golden hours!
