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Show SUMMER BY THE SHORE. Remote from smoky cities, aged and gray, We pass the long-drawn summer ?? day; Now reading in the garden arbor, where In light and silence comes the ?? morn, When dews are on the leaf, and cool the air; The faint wave-wash is heard the beach along. Whence a warm wind waves languidly the corn; And poised in haze the lark shakes out his song; Now hearing in deep grass the scraping scythe, And in the sultry stillness voices blythe [blithe], Till day is done. Blue coolness comes once more: The reapers bind in twilight the last sheaf, And the fresh spring-tide foams along the reef, As floats the white moon up the lonely land. |