The Delights of Summer

And from aloft, overhead,
Were waving to and fro
Poplars and elms;
And near by, a sacred stream
Kept murmuring,
As it flowed from a cavern of the nymphs;
And the bright cicalas
On the shaddy branches
Kept labouriously chirping;
While, in the distance,
Amidst the thick thorn bushes,
The thrush was warbling.
Tufted larks and gold-finches were singing,
The turtledove was cooing,
Tawny bees were humming
Round about the fountains;
Everything was redolent of golden summer,
And redolent of fruit time.
Pears, indeed, at our feet, and by our sides,
Apples were rolling for us in abundance
And the boughs hung plentifully,
Weighed down to the ground, with damsons.