"In lang, lang days o' simmer, When the clear and cloudless sky Refuses ae weep drap o' rain To Nature parched and dry, The genial night, wi' balmy breath, Gars verdue, spring anew, An' ilka blade o' grass Keps its ain drap o' dew." —James Ballantine on Summer
"And the daughter of Zion is left as a cottage in a vineyard, as a lodge in a garden of cucumbers, as a besieged city." —Bible on Summer
"O thou who passest through our valleys in Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat That flames from their large nostrils! Thou, O Summer, Oft pitchest here thy golden tent, and oft Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair." —William Blake on Summer
"Now simmer blinks on flowery braes, And o'er the crystal streamlet plays." —Robert Burns on Summer
"I question not if thrushes sing, If roses load the air; Beyond my heart I need not reach When all is summer there." —John Vance Cheney on Summer
"The Indian Summer, the dead Summer's soul." —Mary Clemmer on Summer
"Oh, the summer night Has a smile of light And she sits on a sapphire throne." —Barry Cornwall on Summer
"Summer time an' the livin' is easy, Fish are jumpin' an' the cotton is high. Oh, yo' daddy's rich, and yo' ma' is good-lookin', So hush, little baby, don' yo' cry." —Ira Gershwin on Summer
"Oh, father's gone to market-town, he was up before the day, And Jamie's after robins, and the man is making hay, And whistling down the hollow goes the boy that minds the mill, While mother from the kitchen door is calling with a will, "Polly!--Polly!--The cows are in the corn! Oh, where's Polly?"" —Richard Watson Gilder on Summer
"Here is the ghost Of a summer that lived for us, Here is a promise Of summer to be." —William Ernest Henley on Summer
"All labours draw hame at even, And can to others say, "Thanks to the gracious God of heaven, Whilk sent this summer day."" —Alexander Hume on Summer
"Sumer is y cumen in." —John Of Fornsete on Summer
"O for a lodge in a garden of cucumbers! O for an iceberg or two at control! O for a vale that at midday the dew cumbers! O for a pleasure trip up to the pole!" —Rossiter Johnson on Summer
"Summer, as my friend Coleridge waggishly writes, has set in with its usual severity." —Charles Lamb on Summer
"That beautiful season . . . the Summer of All-Saints! Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood." —Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on Summer
"Very hot and still the air was, Very smooth the gliding river, Motionless the sleeping shadows." —Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on Summer
"O summer day beside the joyous sea! O summer day so wonderful and white, So full of gladness and so full of pain! Forever and forever shalt thou be To some the gravestone of a dead delight, To some the landmark of a new domain." —Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on Summer
"But see, the shepherds shun the noonday heat, The lowing herds to murmuring brooks retreat, To closer shades the panting flocks remove; Ye gods! and is there no relief for love?" —Alexander Pope on Summer
"Where'er you walk cool gales shall fan the glade, Trees where you sit shall crowd into a shade.
Where'er you tread the blushing flowers shall rise, And all things flourish where you turn your eyes." —Alexander Pope on Summer
"Before green apples blush, Before green nuts embrown, Why, one day in the country Is worth a month in town." —Christina G Rossetti on Summer
"The summer dawn's reflected hue To purple changed Lock Katrine blue, Mildly and soft the western breeze Just kiss'd the lake, just stirr'd the trees, And the pleased lake, like maiden coy, Trembled but dimpled not for joy." —Sir Walter Scott on Summer
"Did he so often lodge in open field, In winter's cold and summer's parching heat, To conquer France, his true inheritance?" —William Shakespeare on Summer
"These are the forgeries of jealousy; And never, since the middle summer's spring, Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead, By paved fountain or by rushy brook, Or in the beached margent of the sea, To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, But with thy brawls thou hast disturbed our sport." —William Shakespeare on Summer
"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date. Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimmed; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed: But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st, Nor shall Death brag thou wand'rest in his shade When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st. So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So ling lives this, and this gives life to thee." —William Shakespeare on Summer
"Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this son of York; And all the clouds that lowered upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried." —William Shakespeare on Summer
Wikiquote Article on Summer
Quotes about summer
And summer isn't a time. It's a place as well. Summer is a moving creature and likes to go south for the winter.
