Summer has filled her veins with light and her heart is washed with noon.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
Summer is very precious.
Summer is the time when one sheds one's tensions with one's clothes, and the right kind of day is jeweled balm for the battered spirit. A few of those days and you can become drunk with the belief that all's right with the world.
What is one to say about June, the time of perfect young summer, the fulfillment of the promise of the earlier months, and with as yet no sign to remind one that its fresh young beauty will ever fade.
Tears are the summer showers to the soul.
Love, whether newly born, or aroused from a deathlike slumber, must always create sunshine, filling the heart so full of radiance, this it overflows upon the outward world.
Summer ends, and Autumn comes, and he who would have it otherwise would have high tide always and a full moon every night.
The beautiful spring came; and when Nature resumes her loveliness, the human soul is apt to revive also.
But to the slave mother New Year's day comes laden with peculiar sorrows. She sits on her cold cabin floor, watching the children who may all be torn from her the next morning; and often does she wish that she and they might die before the day dawns.
The moon is at her full, and riding high, Floods the calm fields with light. The airs that hover in the summer sky Are all asleep tonight.
Oh, the summer night, Has a smile of light, And she sits on a sapphire throne.