C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.

July

The summer looks out from her brazen tower,
Through the flashing bars of July.

Francis Thompson.

Loud is the summer’s busy song
The smallest breeze can find a tongue,
While insects of each tiny size
Grow teasing with their melodies,
Till noon burns with its blistering breath
Around, and day lies still as death.

Clare.

The linden, in the fervors of July,
Hums with a louder concert. When the wind
Sweeps the broad forest in its summer prime,
As when some master-hand exulting sweeps
The keys of some great organ, ye give forth
The music of the woodland depths, a hymn
Of gladness and of thanks.

Bryant.

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