=A Summer-Morning Rumble=

Oh! the happy Summer hours.
With their butterflies and flowers,
And the birds among the bowers
Sweetly singing;--
With the spices from the trees,
Vines, and lilies, while the bees
Come floating on the breeze,
Honey bringing!

All the East was rosy red,
When we woke and left our bed;
And to gather flowers we sped,
Gay and early.
Every clover-top was wet,
And the spider's silken net
With a thousand dew-drops set,
Pure and pearly.

With their modest eyes of blue
Were the violets peeping through
Tufts of grasses, where they grew,
Full of beauty,
At the lamb in snowy white,
O'er the meadow bounding light,