You are here

Summer

  Pitiless heat from heaven pours
    By day, but nights are cool;
  Continual bathing gently lowers
    The water in the pool;
  The evening brings a charming peace:
    For summer-time is here
  When love that never knows surcease,
    Is less imperious, dear.

  Yet love can never fall asleep;
    For he is waked to-day
  By songs that all their sweetness keep
    And lutes that softly play,
  By fans with sandal-water wet
    That bring us drowsy rest,
  By strings of pearls that gently fret
    Full many a lovely breast.

  The sunbeams like the fires are hot
    That on the altar wake;
  The enmity is quite forgot
    Of peacock and of snake;
  The peacock spares his ancient foe,
    For pluck and hunger fail;
  He hides his burning head below
    The shadow of his tail.

  Beneath the garland of the rays
    That leave no corner cool,
  The water vanishes in haze
    And leaves a muddy pool;
  The cobra does not hunt for food
    Nor heed the frog at all
  Who finds beneath the serpent's hood
    A sheltering parasol.

  Dear maiden of the graceful song,
    To you may summer's power
  Bring moonbeams clear and garlands long
    And breath of trumpet-flower,
  Bring lakes that countless lilies dot,
    Refreshing water-sprays,
  Sweet friends at evening, and a spot
    Cool after burning days.