Summer poem – Alexander Pope

A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period

See what delights in sylvan scenes appear!

Descending Gods have found Elysium here.

In woods bright Venus with Adonis stray’d,

And chaste Diana haunts the forest shade.

Come lovely nymph, and bless the silent hours,

When swains from shearing seek their nightly bow’rs;

When weary reapers quit the sultry field,

And crown’d with corn, their thanks to Ceres yield.

This harmless grove no lurking viper hides,

But in my breast the serpent Love abides.

Here bees from blossoms sip the rosy dew,

But your Alexis knows no sweets but you.

Oh deign to visit our forsaken seats,

The mossy fountains, and the green retreats!

Where-e’er you walk, cool gales shall fan the glade,

Trees, where you sit, shall crowd into a shade,

Where-e’er you tread, the blushing flow’rs shall rise,

And all things flourish where you turn your eyes.

Oh! How I long with you to pass my days,

Invoke the muses, and resound your praise;

Your praise the birds shall chant in ev’ry grove,

And winds shall waft it to the pow’rs above.

But wou’d you sing, and rival Orpheus’ strain,

The wond’ring forests soon shou’d dance again,

The moving mountains hear the pow’rful call,

And headlong streams hang list’ning in their fall!

But see, the shepherds shun the noon-day heat,

The lowing herds to murm’ring brooks retreat,

To closer shades the panting flocks remove,

Ye Gods! And is there no relief for Love?

But soon the sun with milder rays descends

To the cool ocean, where his journey ends;

On me Love’s fiercer flames for every prey,

By night he scorches, as he burns by day.

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Poems in English 

• This Moment, Yearning and Thoughtful. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• This Dust was Once the Man. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• This Day, O Soul. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• This Compost. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Think of the Soul. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Thick-Sprinkled Bunting. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• These, I, Singing in Spring. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• There was a Child went Forth. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• The Wound-Dresser by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• That Shadow, my Likeness. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• That Music Always Round Me. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Tests. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Tears. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Still, though the One I Sing. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• States! by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Starting from Paumanok. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Spontaneous Me. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Spirit whose Work is Done. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Spirit That Form’d This Scene. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Sparkles from The Wheel. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman

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