A Summer’s Day.
July 22, 2011
THE time so tranquil is and still,
That nowhere shall ye find,
Save on a high and barren hill,
An air of passing wind.
All trees and simples, great and small,
That balmy leaf do bear,
Than they were painted on a wall,
No more they move or stir.
The ships becalmed upon the seas,
Hang up their sails to dry;
The herds, beneath the leafy trees,
Among the flowers they he.
Great is the calm, for everywhere
The wind is settling down:
The smoke goes upright in the air,
From every tower and town.
What pleasure, then, to walk and see,
Along a river clear,
The perfect form of every tree
Within the deep appear:
The bells and circles on the waves,
From leaping of the trout;
The salmon from their creels and caves
Come gliding in and out.
O sure it were a seemly thing,
While all is still and calm,
The praise of God to play and sing,
With trumpet and with shalm!
All laborers draw home at even,
And can to others say,
“Thanks to the gracious God of heaven,
Who sent this summer day.”
—From “Of The Day Estivall.”