Explore "Summer" by George MacDonald on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Summer, sweet Summer, many-fingered Summer!
We hold thee very dear, as well we may: / It is the kernel of the year to-day -- / All hail to thee! thou art a welcome comer!
If every insect were a fairy drummer, / And I a fifer that could deftly play, / We'd give the old Earth such a roundelay / That she would cast all thought of labour from her. -- / Ah! what is this upon my window-pane?
Some sulky, drooping cloud comes pouting up, / Stamping its glittering feet along the plain! -- / Well, I will let that idle fancy drop!
Oh, how the spouts are bubbling with the rain!
And all the earth shines like a silver cup!