Summer Magic — Summary

So many cares to vex the day, So many fears to haunt the night, My heart was all but weaned away From every lure of old delight. Then summer came, announced by June, With beauty, miracle and mirth. She hung aloft the rounding moon, She poured her sunshine on the earth, She drove the sap and broke the bud, She set the crimson rose afire. She stirred again my sullen blood, And waked in me a new desire. Before my cottage door she spread The softest carpet nature weaves, And deftly arched above my head A canopy of shady leaves. Her nights were dreams of jeweled skies, Her days were bowers rife with song, And many a scheme did she devise To heal the hurt and soothe the wrong. For on the hill or in the dell, Or where the brook went leaping by Or where the fields would surge and swell With golden wheat or bearded rye, I felt her heart against my own, I breathed the sweetness of her breath, Till all the cark of time had flown, And I was lord of life and death.

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The speaker begins worn down by daily anxieties and nighttime fears, feeling cut off from anything that once brought joy. Then June arrives, and summer itself becomes a living force of recovery. Sunshine, the full moon, bursting buds, and the red rose all stir his sluggish blood and wake a fresh desire to live.

Summer is described almost like a caring presence: it lays a soft green carpet outside his door, arches leafy shade above him, fills the nights with stars and the days with birdsong, and seems deliberately to heal his wounds. In the hills, by the brook, or among fields of wheat and rye, he feels close to its heartbeat and breath. The weight of time and worry lifts, and he feels powerful and fully alive again. The mood moves from heaviness and numbness into warmth, comfort, and quiet exhilaration.

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