A SONG OF SUMMER 



" Shine ! shine ! shine ! 

 Pour down your warmth, great sun ! 

 While we bask, we two together." 



Walt Whitman. 



The south wind sweeps over the 

 mignonette, passing through the hedged 

 sweet peas into the wood gap. The 

 reeds on the brink of the river tremble 

 and the pendulous red-gold meadow 

 lilies ring the midsummer in with their 

 clamouring bronze tongues. It is not 

 the sun-god's day of the Julian calen- 

 dar, the summer solstice; not the fes- 

 tival of St. John the Baptist, when old 

 English custom trimmed the doors with 

 St. Johnswort and green branches, when 

 a wheel bound with straw was taken to 

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