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113
THE SUMMER FRIEND.
TO C. M.
“It was not in the winter
Our loving lot was cast;
It was the time of roses,—
We plucked them as we pass'd.”
Hood.
Our loving lot was cast;
It was the time of roses,—
We plucked them as we pass'd.”
Hood.
Yes! ever with the Summer,
As flies across the sea
The Spring's first blithesome comer,
My thoughts fly swift to thee!
For they were wove of sunbeams,
The ties that hold us fast;
It was Summer when I saw thee first,
And when I saw thee last!
As flies across the sea
The Spring's first blithesome comer,
My thoughts fly swift to thee!
For they were wove of sunbeams,
The ties that hold us fast;
It was Summer when I saw thee first,
And when I saw thee last!
And short and bright as Summer
Our meetings still have been,
(Enough, enough of Winter
Hath ever come between!)
Till with a doubling sweetness
Thy smile is now a part
Of Summer,—Summer on the earth,
And Summer in the heart!
Our meetings still have been,
(Enough, enough of Winter
Hath ever come between!)
Till with a doubling sweetness
Thy smile is now a part
Of Summer,—Summer on the earth,
And Summer in the heart!
114
Still come, dear friend, in Summer,
That I may keep thee twined
With all its warm and golden gifts,
For ever to my mind!
Yet come, dear friend, in Winter,
To prove what half my heart
Hath guessed, that it is Summer still,—
My Summer where thou art!
That I may keep thee twined
With all its warm and golden gifts,
For ever to my mind!
Yet come, dear friend, in Winter,
To prove what half my heart
Hath guessed, that it is Summer still,—
My Summer where thou art!
February 13, 1851.
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