 | Complete works (1925-27) |  |
I
[When I behold the summer's glory paint]
When I behold the summer's glory paintThe winter-wrinkled cheek of earth with pride,
And overcome with sweet the bitter taint
That angry seasons laid by spring's fair side:
And all the sullen-working clouds supprest
That sat upon the green head of the year,
The tender May with humorous flaws opprest
Lift up again her sweet enamour'd cheer;
Their sight would pour a balm about my pain,
And hush the cry that rends my parted soul,
But that in all things fair I see too plain
Some lurking treason doth bewitch the whole,
And thought doth tell me that thy absence takes
The golden gloss from all the Summer wakes.
| Complete works (1925-27) | |