Songs of the Seasons | ||
In the glory-time of cherries,
When they hang, like orbs of coral,
Gazing out o'er treasures floral;
At the feast of ruddy berries,
When the circulating bowl
Plenished is with creams of clover,
Ere the banquet was nigh over,
From the lips of the Great Soul
Of universe, a voice descended,
“Summer, thy brief reign is ended.”
So, I've come into possession
Of the flower-wealth, in part,
Only to feel sad at heart
And lament my own accession.
When they hang, like orbs of coral,
Gazing out o'er treasures floral;
At the feast of ruddy berries,
When the circulating bowl
Plenished is with creams of clover,
Ere the banquet was nigh over,
From the lips of the Great Soul
Of universe, a voice descended,
“Summer, thy brief reign is ended.”
12
Of the flower-wealth, in part,
Only to feel sad at heart
And lament my own accession.
Songs of the Seasons | ||