 | | 25/09/2017 19:02
Sur le blog Matoushi's
Our valleys love the Summer in his pride
To Summer O thou who passest thro' our valleys in Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat That flames from their large nostrils! thou, O Summer, Oft pitched'st here thy goldent tent, and oft Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair. Beneath our thickest shades we oft have heard Thy voice, when noon upon his fervid car Rode o'er the deep of heaven; beside our springs Sit down, and in our mossy valleys, on Some bank beside a river clear, throw thy Silk draperies off, and rush into the stream: Our valleys love the Summer in his pride. Our bards are fam'd who strike the silver wire: Our youth are...
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