Explore Quotes on Summer

Tis moonlight, summer moonlight, _x000D__x000D_All soft and still and fair; _x000D__x000D_The solemn hour of midnight _x000D__x000D_Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,_x000D__x000D__x000D_But most where trees are sending _x000D__x000D_Their breezy boughs on high, _x000D__x000D_Or stooping low are lending _x000D__x000D_A shelter from the sky._x000D__x000D__x000D_And there in those wild bowers _x000D__x000D_A lovely form is laid; _x000D__x000D_Green grass and dew-steeped flowers _x000D__x000D_Wave gently round her head.

Love is to the heart what the summer is to the farmer's year. It brings to harvest all the loveliest flowers of the soul.

The smell of manure, of sun on foliage, of evaporating water, rose to my head; two steps farther, and I could look down into the vegetable garden enclosed within its tall pale of reeds - rich chocolate earth studded emerald green, frothed with the white of cauliflowers, jeweled with the purple globes of eggplant and the scarlet wealth of tomatoes.

All your renown is like the summer flower that blooms and dies; because the sunny glow which brings it forth, soon slays with parching power.

O Earth, that hast no voice, confide to me a voice!_x000D__x000D_O harvest of my lands! O boundless summer growths!_x000D__x000D_O lavish, brown, parturient earth! O infinite, teeming womb!_x000D__x000D_A verse to seek, to see, to narrate thee.

The trees that have it in their pent-up buds _x000D__x000D_To darken nature and be summer woods.

We go in withering July_x000D__x000D_To ply the hard incessant hoe;_x000D__x000D_Panting beneath the brazen sky_x000D__x000D_We sweat and grumble, but we go.

He was in love with life as an ant on a summer blade of grass.

When on a summer's morn I wake, _x000D__x000D_And open my two eyes, _x000D__x000D_Out to the clear, born-singing rills _x000D__x000D_My bird-like spirit flies._x000D__x000D__x000D_To hear the Blackbird, Cuckoo, Thrush, _x000D__x000D_Or any bird in song; _x000D__x000D_And common leaves that hum all day _x000D__x000D_Without a throat or tongue._x000D__x000D__x000D_And when Time strikes the hour for sleep, _x000D__x000D_Back in my room alone, _x000D__x000D_My heart has many a sweet bird's song - _x000D__x000D_And one that's all my own.

Summer has set in with its usual severity.

Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.

I walk without flinching through the burning cathedral of the summer. My bank of wild grass is majestic and full of music. It is a fire that solitude presses against my lips.

Between the dusk of a summer night_x000D__x000D_And the dawn of a summer day,_x000D__x000D_We caught at a mood as it passed in flight,_x000D__x000D_And we bade it stoop and stay._x000D__x000D_And what with the dawn of night began_x000D__x000D_With the dusk of day was done;_x000D__x000D_For that is the way of woman and man,_x000D__x000D_When a hazard has made them one._x000D__x000D_Arc upon arc, from shade to shine,_x000D__x000D_The World went thundering free;_x000D__x000D_And what was his errand but hers and mine -_x000D__x000D_The lords of him, I and she?_x000D__x000D_O, it's die we must, but it's live we can,_x000D__x000D_And the marvel of earth and sun_x000D__x000D_Is all for the joy of woman and man_x000D__x000D_And the longing that makes them one.

No price is set on the lavish summer;_x000D__x000D_June may be had by the poorest comer.

I question not if thrushes sing,_x000D__x000D_If roses load the air;_x000D__x000D_Beyond my heart I need not reach_x000D__x000D_When all is summer there.

Press close, bare-bosomed Night! Press close, magnetic,_x000D__x000D_nourishing Night!_x000D__x000D_Night of south winds! Night of the large, few stars!_x000D__x000D_Still, nodding Night! Mad, naked, Summer Night!

He stood beside a cottage lone _x000D__x000D_And listened to a lute, _x000D__x000D_One summer's eve, when the breeze was gone, _x000D__x000D_And the nightingale was mute.

That familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.

How often had that hydrant even been opened? Did you jet water through a car window, what, twice at best? Summer burned just a few afternoons long, in the end. As for flying, Dose never even glanced at the sky. Flying was a summer within a summer, a whim. So why think of it at all?

It was a heavenly summer, the summer in which France fell and the British Expeditionary Force was evacuated from Dunkirk. Leaves were never such an intense and iridescent green; sunlight glinted on flower-studded meadows as the Germans encircled the Maginot Line and overran not only France but Belgium and Holland. Birdsong filled the air in the lull between bursts of gunfire and accompanied the fleeing refugees who blocked the roads. It was as though the weather was preparing a glorious requiem for the death of Europe.

The days draw out, the weather gets warmer, and it's what we call summer, with a bitter laugh when we've said it.