LESSON 27 A SUMMER HOLIDAY

A SUMMER HOLIDAY

O merrily the ocean greets the sand upon the shore,

And merrily the children's laughter mingles [1] with its roar;

O merrily the summer hours too swiftly pass away;

And what a happy lot were mine could Summer only stay.

O cheerily their voices ring along the silver strand [2] ,

Where many a tireless toiler [3] rears his castle on the sand;

And where the shallow waters play, some sail a baby fleet;

And every day's a holiday, and every moment sweet.

Too soon, too soon, the hours of play and summer swiftly fly;

And O, there's pain and weariness [4] , and storms brood [5] o'er the sky;

Yet echoes of that laughter we may waken all the year,

If we with merry words contrive to comfort and to cheer.

Were every day a holiday! Why! that must never be,

If we with merry words contrive to comfort and to cheer.

There's many a task and sure reward awaiting you and me;

And only those deserve to play beside the summer seas,

Who bravely toil and earn awhile their days of summer ease.

Good books are the most precious of blessings to a people; bad books are among the worst of curses.

—Whipple

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[1] mingles: Mixes.

[2] silver strand: A beach of white sand.

[3] toiler: Worker.

[4] weariness: Tiredness.

[5] brood: Cover as with wings.