What is summer made of? Of opening buds and flowers; Of sunshine and of shadow, And gracious little showers, Of birds that in the tree-tops Sing sweetly all the day; Of buttercups and daisies, And breath of new-mown hay.
Of butterflies that hover O’er every fragrant rose; Of bees that gather honey Where the honeysuckle grows. Of brooks that murmur softly, And thro’ the meadows glide: Of shadows shifting gently Adown the mountain-side.
Of rainbows after showers, Of starlight nights so still; Of moonbeams shimmering softly O’er every brook and rill. Of mornings dawning sweetly O’er dew-wet grass and flowers, Oh! summer time is only A life of golden hours!