Explore "Midsummer" by Joseph C. Lincoln on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Sun like a furnace hung up overhead, / Burnin' and blazin' and blisterin' red; / Sky like an ocean, so blue and so deep, / One little cloud-ship becalmed and asleep; / Breezes all gone and the leaves hangin' still, / Shimmer of heat on the medder and hill, -- Labor / and laziness callin' to me: / "Hoe or the fishin'-pole -- which'll it be?"
There's the old cornfield out there in the sun, / Showin' so plain that there's work ter be done; / There's the mean weeds with their tops all a-sprout, / Seemin' ter stump me ter come clean 'em out; / But, there's the river, so clear and so cool, / There's the white lilies afloat on the pool, / Scentin' the shade 'neath the old maple tree -- / "Hoe or the fishin'-pole -- which'll it be?"