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Now have come the shining days
When field and wood are robed anew,
And o'er the world a silver haze
Mingles the emerald with the blue.


Summer now doth clothe the land
In garments free from spot or stain--
The lustrous leaves, the hills untanned,
The vivid meads, the glaucous grain.


The day looks new, a coin unworn,
Freshly stamped in heavenly mint:
The sky keeps on its look of morn;
Of age and death there is no hint.


How soft the landscape near and far!
A shining veil the trees infold;
The day remembers moon and star;
A silver lining hath its gold.


Again I see the clover bloom,
And wade in grasses lush and sweet;
Again has vanished all my gloom
With daisies smiling at my feet.


Again from out the garden hives
The exodus of frenzied bees;
The humming cyclone onward drives,
Or finds repose amid the trees.


At dawn the river seems a shade--
A liquid shadow deep as space;
But when the sun the mist has laid,
A diamond shower smites its face.


The season's tide now nears its height,
And gives to earth an aspect new;
Now every shoal is hid from sight,
With current fresh as morning dew.