Summer How green and bright they are! How still they lie!
The summer fields out-stretching in the sun:
An emerald glory, sharp as any cry,
Dipping beneath the racing winds that run
Across the summer day on swift light feet,
To silver the little leaning, laughing grass,
To gild the tossing beads of ripening wheat.
Here is peace to store within the breast
Against the days of tumult and despair.
Within this cool green light the heart can rest,
The body strengthens in the clear clean air,
The soul grows tall, the viol-string tensions cease
Here in this summer stillness, summer peace.
Grace Noll Crowell