What treasure trove the task-free summer hours
With every golden moment all our own;
Beneath some tree's soft shade to drowse, and drone,
And build in Dreamland hope-enchanted towers!
The birds are dozing in their foliaged bowers
Save the woodpecker tapping far and lone,
While dauntless bumble-bees make murmurous moan
Among the blossoms of the drooping flowers.
The sun sinks down in clouds that seem his pyre;
And as the dusk is edging into dark,
And Hesperus faintly trembles into fire,
The lightning bug floats by--a twinkling spark,
While then we hear--ah, now I hear it still--
The plaintive calling of the whippoorwill.
