Stevenson pictures the summer sun as a calm, generous giant moving through a vast sky, then zooms in on how it sneaks into human spaces. Even with the blinds pulled to keep a parlour cool, the sun finds a gap to slip a “golden finger” through. That image sets the playful, affectionate mood. The speaker clearly delights in this warm intruder: it brightens a dusty attic through a keyhole, smiles into a hay-loft through broken tiles, and spills a glittering look into every hidden corner of the garden and ivy. There’s no sense of oppressive heat, only a gentle, persistent friendliness. The final stanza expands the view again, describing the sun’s steady path above the hills and air, and gives it a purpose — to delight a child and colour a rose. Calling the sun “the gardener of the World” feels both grand and tender, as if the whole earth is tended with a simple, cheerful care. The poem leaves you feeling sun-warmed and quietly happy, as if you’ve been sitting in that bright, shady parlour yourself.
Summer Sun — Summary
Great is the sun, and wide he goes Through empty heaven with repose; And in the blue and glowing days More thick than rain he showers his rays.
Though closer still the blinds we pull To keep the shady parlour cool, Yet he will find a chink or two To slip his golden fingers through.
The dusty attic spider-clad He, through the keyhole, maketh glad; And through the broken edge of tiles Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.
Meantime his golden face around He bares to all the garden ground, And sheds a warm and glittering look Among the ivy's inmost nook.
Above the hills, along the blue, Round the bright air with footing true, To please the child, to paint the rose, The gardener of the World, he goes.