Our Hundred Days In summer’s glory, bright and gay, I wander through the fields at play, Where blossoms gleam like stars at night And make the heart burst forth with light.

I see the sun-kissed azure hills, I scent the sweetness of the rills, I hear the swells that fill my ears, And there I gather all my fears.

Yet when the night creeps on its way, Through clouds that softly cross the day, And the moon shines down on all that dreamed, I chase the fleeting memory stream’d.

Thus in those Hundred Days we find A glimmer of the heart and mind, Where nature whispers, ever wise, The treasures wrought beneath the skies.

• Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr