求一首英文poem因为要做一份电子小报需要一首诗 要关于夏天的请把原诗弄出来 行吗

求一首英文poem
因为要做一份电子小报需要一首诗 要关于夏天的
请把原诗弄出来 行吗

Before There was Sunshine
　　Before there was sunshine
　　And warm summer haze,
　　Before there was leisure
　　And long,lazy days,
　　Before there was sleeping
　　Till noon or whenever,
　　We woke to alarm clocks
　　And cold,dreary weather.
　　The days passed so slowly,
　　We somehow got through;
　　Summer would get here
　　In good time,we knew.
　　When it finally got here
　　We savored each day,
　　We knew that before long
　　It would go away.
　　We went on a vacation,
　　Second to none;
　　We swam in the ocean
　　And dried in the sun.
　　The days passed so quickly,
　　Seemed to fly by,
　　Summer was ending,
　　We could not deny.
　　So we packed up and went home,
　　With tears in our eyes,
　　Summer was over,
　　We said our goodbyes.
　　----by Gail Grierson
　　------------------------------------
　　Summer for thee,grant I may be
　　Summer for thee,grant I may be
　　When Summer days are flown!
　　Thy music still,when Whipporwill
　　And Oriole -- are done!
　　For thee to bloom,I'll skip the tomb
　　And row my blossoms o'er!
　　Pray gather me --
　　Anemone --
　　Thy flower -- forevermore!
　　----by Emily Dickinson
　　----------------------------------------
　　Bed In Summer
　　(1)
　　In winter I get up at night
　　And dress by yellow candle-light.
　　In summer quite the other way,
　　I have to go to bed by day.
　　(2)
　　I have to go to bed and see
　　The birds still hopping on the tree,
　　Or hear the grown-up people's feet
　　Still going past me in the street.
　　(3)
　　And does it not seem hard to you,
　　When all the sky is clear and blue,
　　And I should like so much to play,
　　To have to go to bed by day?
　　-----by R.L.Stevenson
　　---------------------------------------
　　To Summer
　　O thou who passest thro' our valleys in
　　Thy strength,curb thy fierce steeds,allay the heat
　　That flames from their large nostrils!thou,O Summer,
　　Oft pitched'st here thy goldent tent,and oft
　　Beneath our oaks hast slept,while we beheld
　　With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.
　　Beneath our thickest shades we oft have heard
　　Thy voice,when noon upon his fervid car
　　Rode o'er the deep of heaven; beside our springs
　　Sit down,and in our mossy valleys,on
　　Some bank beside a river clear,throw thy
　　Silk draperies off,and rush into the stream:
　　Our valleys love the Summer in his pride.
　　Our bards are fam'd who strike the silver wire:
　　Our youth are bolder than the southern swains:
　　Our maidens fairer in the sprightly dance:
　　We lack not songs,nor instruments of joy,
　　Nor echoes sweet,nor waters clear as heaven,
　　Nor laurel wreaths against the sultry heat.
　　----by William Blake