O RARE, SWEET SUMMER DAY.
Reading edition
"The day is placid in its going, To a lingering motion bound, Like a river in its flowing— Can there be a softer sound?" —Wordsworth.
O rare, sweet summer day, Could'st thou not longer stay? The soothing, whispering wind's caress Was bliss to weary brain, The songs of birds had power to bless As in fair childhood's reign. The tinted clouds were free from showers, The sky was wondrous clear, The precious incense of rare flowers Made sweet the atmosphere; The shimmering haze of mid-day hour Was balm to restlessness, While thought of silent hidden power Was strength for helplessness— O rare, sweet summer day, Could'st thou not longer stay?
Porter Manse.