Part 29

No weather is ill If the wind be still.

Old saying.

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All through the sultry hours of June, From morning blithe to golden noon, And till the star of evening climbs The gray-blue East, a world too soon, There sings a thrush within the limes.

God's poet, hid in foliage green, Sings endless songs, himself unseen; Right seldom come his silent times. Linger, ye summer hours serene! Sing on, dear thrush, amid the limes!

Mortimer Collins.

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A wet June makes a dry September.

Cornwall.

JULY

Ancient Cornish name: Miz-gorepham, head of the summer month.

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Jewel for the month: Ruby. Discovers poison.

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If the first of July be rainy weather, 'Twill rain more or less for four weeks together.

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In my nostrils the summer wind Blows the exquisite scent of the rose: Oh! for the golden, golden wind, Breaking the buds as it goes! Breaking the buds and bending the grass, And spilling the scent of the rose.

Aldrich.

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I sometimes think that never blows so red The rose as where some buried C├Žsar bled; That every hyacinth the garden wears Dropt in its lap from some once lovely head.

Omar Khayyam.

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OF GARDENS.

In July come gilliflowers of all varieties, musk roses, the lime tree in blossom, early pears, and plums in fruit, ginnetings, quadlins.

Bacon.

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A tuft of evening primroses, O'er which the mind may hover till it dozes; O'er which it well might take a pleasant sleep, But that 'tis ever startled by the leap Of buds into ripe flowers.

Keats.