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Songs of the Seasons

And Other Poems. By Thomas Tod Stoddart

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Dead is Summer! but she died
In the ardent clasp of Love,
In an ecstasy she died!

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Songsters caroll'd in the grove,
And with rapt'rous notes the dove
To her monody replied.
Flowers their sweetest breath exhaled,
Fairest hues her eye regaled;
At her will and to her wishes,
Tided in the pride of fishes!
Through the gates of Neptune's palace,
Tided in the scaly forces;
Up by shining water-courses,
Radiant salmon climbed the valleys.