 | The high-top sweeting And Other Poems |  |
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COULD SUMMER LAST FOREVER.
Faint bronzy hints of autumn brown
Proclaim the chilly comer;
The first red leaf comes floating down,
A sign of vanished summer.
Alas! how lately did the earth
In spring's fair garments robe her,
And June laugh out for very mirth—
And now here comes October!
A breath of autumn chills the day,
A faint prophetic shiver;
Why cannot sunshine always stay,
And summer last forever?
Proclaim the chilly comer;
The first red leaf comes floating down,
A sign of vanished summer.
Alas! how lately did the earth
In spring's fair garments robe her,
And June laugh out for very mirth—
And now here comes October!
A breath of autumn chills the day,
A faint prophetic shiver;
Why cannot sunshine always stay,
And summer last forever?
On hillside, field, and meadow wide
Appear the changing tinges;
The golden-rod on every side
Shakes out its shining fringes;
The purple disks of asters rise
In all the wayside places;
The frost, beneath night's still, clear skies,
Its dainty broidery traces;
Alas! but now the willows dropped
Their catkins in the river.
Why could not time's swift wheels be stopped,
And summer last forever?
Appear the changing tinges;
The golden-rod on every side
Shakes out its shining fringes;
The purple disks of asters rise
In all the wayside places;
The frost, beneath night's still, clear skies,
Its dainty broidery traces;
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Their catkins in the river.
Why could not time's swift wheels be stopped,
And summer last forever?
It was but now the bluebird sang
In leafless garden alleys,
And April smiled, and new grass sprang
In all the sheltered valleys.
It was but now the bees were lost
In bloomy wastes and mazes,
And, foam-like, on green billows tossed
White crests of ox-eye daisies.
Ah, for some realm where blossom-friends
Would change and perish never,
Some clime where flower-time never ends,
And summer lasts forever!
In leafless garden alleys,
And April smiled, and new grass sprang
In all the sheltered valleys.
It was but now the bees were lost
In bloomy wastes and mazes,
And, foam-like, on green billows tossed
White crests of ox-eye daisies.
Ah, for some realm where blossom-friends
Would change and perish never,
Some clime where flower-time never ends,
And summer lasts forever!
But now the early flowers looked up,
The fields and pastures over,—
Shy innocence, bold buttercup,
And white and crimson clover;
The violet peeped through sodden leaves,
In sunny, snow-soaked hollows;
And maples bloomed, and country eaves
Were all a-chirp with swallows.
The nested broods have come and gone;
With dread the maples quiver;
Oh, could the sun shine on and on,
And summer last forever!
The fields and pastures over,—
Shy innocence, bold buttercup,
And white and crimson clover;
The violet peeped through sodden leaves,
In sunny, snow-soaked hollows;
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Were all a-chirp with swallows.
The nested broods have come and gone;
With dread the maples quiver;
Oh, could the sun shine on and on,
And summer last forever!
The warblers all are fled or mute;
The gray skies frown and lower;
The orchard trees have lost their fruit;
The shorn fields have no flower.
The evening cricket chirps, alas,
His shrill foreboding warning,
And dew-bright webs festoon the grass
In roadside fields at morning.
All things foretell how soon delight
And our pale world must sever.
Ah, could the sky be always bright,
And summer last forever!
The gray skies frown and lower;
The orchard trees have lost their fruit;
The shorn fields have no flower.
The evening cricket chirps, alas,
His shrill foreboding warning,
And dew-bright webs festoon the grass
In roadside fields at morning.
All things foretell how soon delight
And our pale world must sever.
Ah, could the sky be always bright,
And summer last forever!
Ah, life would be supremely blest
If youth were not so fleeting,
If June would come at our behest,
Or stay for our entreating;
But frost and bloom, and youth and age
Must rule the world together,
And calendars still keep a page
For months of winter weather.
But when relinquished evermore
Is life's intent endeavor,
Shall we not find a fairer shore
Where summer lasts forever?
If youth were not so fleeting,
If June would come at our behest,
Or stay for our entreating;
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Must rule the world together,
And calendars still keep a page
For months of winter weather.
But when relinquished evermore
Is life's intent endeavor,
Shall we not find a fairer shore
Where summer lasts forever?
| The high-top sweeting And Other Poems | |