The Passing of Summer.
Woods russet red—1
Full fruited orchards and the golden haze,2
That round the edges of the short’ning days ;3
And fresher grows the sultry air at night,4
And sharper gleam the starry spears of light5
In the blue vault o’erhead—6
The year has pass’d its noon, and Summer’s sped.7
Green glades are crossed8
With fairy gossamers, dew-drench’d and fine,9
And in the hedgerows berried jewels shine—10
Deep purpling sloes, and scarlet of the brier,11
While the great beeches flame to sudden fire12
At the first touch of frost—13
An added glow for every glory lost.14
No songsters fill15
The air with music ; in gay companies16
Feather’d explorers hurry towards the seas :17
The falling leaves in elfin dances fly,18
And fragrant pine-cones drop in hollows dry ;19
But yet on moor and hill20
The heather wears its royal vesture still.21
Autumn is here—22
A sun-brown’d reaper—strong of arm and fleet,23
The ripen’d corn in sheaves about his feet
;24
The last flower Summer left is on his breast
:25
“ Be still, O patient Earth,” he cries, “ and rest—26
Sleep through dark days and drear27
Till Spring shall whisper in thy dreaming ear !”28