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Mid-Summer Night's poetry|
by Various authors
A July Sunset
The long lines of red and gold in the sky, and the glorious track of the
descending sun, were all divinely calm. Upon the purple tree tops far
away, and on the green heights near at hand up which the shades were
slowly creeping, there was an equal hush. Between the real landscape and
its shadow in the water there was no division, both were so untroubled
and clear, and while so fraught with solemn mystery of life and death, so
hopefully reassuring to the gazer's soothed heart, because so tenderly and
Hot July was drawing to an end.
And August came the fainting year to mend
With fruit and grain.
In the Fields in August
There is no month in the whole year in which Nature wears a more
beautiful appearance than in the month of August. It comes when we
remember nothing but clear skies, green fields, and sweet smelling flowers.
Orchards and cornfields ring with the hum of labor; trees bend beneath the
thick clusters of rich fruit which bow their branches to the ground; and the
corn, piled in graceful sheaves, or waving in every light breath that sweeps
above it, as if it wooed the sickle, tinges the landscape with a golden hue.
A mellow softness appears to hang over the whole earth.
Riches of the Garden
We may gather more than berries from our fruit gardens. Nature hangs
thoughts and suggestions on every spray, and blackberry bushes give
many an impressive scratch to teach us that good and evil are very near
together in this world, and that we must be careful, while seeking the one,
to avoid the other.
E. P. Roe
God the Divine Artist
God is the Divine Artist, and is furnishing themes for all other artists. God
is the author of landscapes, mountains, rivers, of scenes like that we saw
this morning, or of a fine face and a noble form, as truly as of a chapter in
the Bible. He manifests Himself in these things. Fine paintings, statuary
and music bring out the hidden meanings of nature, and therefore more
clearly God's thought.
E. P. Roe
A Tranquil Sunset
A tranquil summer sunset shone upon the meadows by the riverside.
Everything within the view was lovely and placid. The rich foliage of the
trees, the luxuriant grass diversified with wild flowers, the little green
islands in the river, the beds of rushes, the waterlilies floating on the
surface of the stream, were all expressive of rest. In the occasional leap of
a fish, or dip of an oar, or twittering of a bird not yet at roost, or distant
barking of a dog or lowing of a cow, - in all such sounds there was the
prevailing breath of rest.
When summer's hourly mellowing change
May breathe, with many roses sweet,
Upon the thousand waves of wheat,
That ripple round the lonely grange.
Taking Ease in Art
Art is the one corner of human life in which we may take our ease. In other
places our passions are conditioned and embarrassed. Art means an escape
from all this. Wherever her brilliant standard floats, the need for apologies
and exonerations is over; there it is enough simply that we please, or that
we are pleased.
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