SUMMER 2009
To Nature
It may indeed be phantasy, when IEssay to draw from all created thingsDeep, heartfelt, inward joy that closely clings ;And trace in leaves and flowers that round me lieLessons of love and earnest piety.So let it be ; and if the wide world ringsIn mock of this belief, it bringsNor fear, nor grief, nor vain perplexity.So will I build my altar in the fields,And the blue sky my fretted dome shall be,And the sweet fragrance that the wild flower yieldsShall be the incense I will yield to Thee,Thee only God ! and thou shalt not despiseEven me, the priest of this poor sacrifice
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Summer Shower
A drop fell on the apple tree,
Another on the roof;
A half a dozen kissed the eaves,
And made the gables laugh.
A few went out to help the brook,
That went to help the sea.
Myself conjectured, Were they pearls,
What necklaces could be!
The dust replaced in hoisted roads,
The birds jocoser sung;
The sunshine threw his hat away,
The orchards spangles hung.
The breezes brought dejected lutes,
And bathed them in the glee;
The East put out a single flag,
And signed the fete away.
Emily Dickinson
Pictures taken By Spera Gerardo at Pomarico (Italy)
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