It’s the day of lush green leaves and sunwarmed skin.
Of diving into soul-quenching cool waters, of honeysuckle on the wind, of bonfires.
The day of longest sun that we wait for and dream of when winter is endless.
It’s the day so precious and magical that Shakespeare knew, the night itself could dream…
“I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.”
“Lovers and madmen have such seething brains
Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend
More than cool reason ever comprehends.
The lunatic, the lover, and the poet,
Are of imagination all compact.
“So we grew together like to a double cherry, seeming parted, but yet an union in partition, two lovely berries molded on one stem.”
“O, when she’s angry, she is keen and shrewd! She was a vixen when she went to school; And though she be but little, she is fierce.”
“And yet,to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays.”
“If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumbered here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
If you pardon, we will mend:
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue,
We will make amends ere long;
Else the Puck a liar call;
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.”
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