 | Poems of sentiment |  |
123
SEPTEMBER.
My life's long radiant Summer halts at lastAnd lo! beside my pathway I behold
Pursuing Autumn glide: nor frost nor cold
Has heralded her presence; but a vast
Sweet calm that comes not till the year has passed
Its fevered solstice, and a tinge of gold
Subdues the vivid coloring of bold
And passion-hued emotions. I will cast
My August days behind me with my May,
Nor strive to drag them into Autumn's place,
Nor swear I hope when I do but remember.
Now violet and rose have had their day
I'll pluck the soberer asters with good grace
And call September nothing but September.
| Poems of sentiment | |