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Friday, June 24, 2011

Number 196: Robert Louis Stevenson "Summer Sun"

Summer Sun

Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven with repose:
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays.

Though closer still the blinds we pull
To keep the shady parlour cool,
Yet he will find a chink or two
To slip his golden fingers through.

The dusty attic spider-clad
He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;
And through the broken edge of tiles
Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.

Meantime his golden face around
He bares to all the garden ground,
And sheds a warm and glittering look
Among the ivy's inmost nook.

Above the hills, along the blue,
Round the bright air with footing true,
To please the child, to paint the rose,
The gardener of the World, he goes.

-- Robert Louis Stevenson

Hap Notes: I love this charming poem of Stevenson's but, in all honesty, I posted it because it's my birthday and it's an enchanting thought for the day. Also, my hands are already sticky from eating so much cold watermelon for breakfast because on my birthday, if I can afford it, I only eat what I really love. One birthday I ate a whole jar of maraschino cherries for breakfast – probably not my best idea ever.

I hope the summer sun is shining on you today and if it is not, there's always this Stevenson poem to shine on you instead.

Here's where we have talked about Stevenson before:

The Renoir in the masthead is a particular favorite of mine. It's at the Phillips Collection in Washington D.C. and it's so awesome in person you have to sit down for a minute to catch your breath. Up close it's a tangled marvel, far away, the glassware sparkles in the sun. Here's the whole painting and an explanation of who's who in the picture:

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