 | Hymns and Poems |  |
XII. SUMMER'S DEPARTURE.
The glory of Summer
Is faded and fled;
The wreaths that adorn'd her
Are dying or dead;
The Autumn is coming,
And strong in his blast
Will open to Winter
A passage at last.
Is faded and fled;
The wreaths that adorn'd her
Are dying or dead;
The Autumn is coming,
And strong in his blast
Will open to Winter
A passage at last.
O, how to my spirit
It seemeth to say,—
‘Thus, too, is thy Summer
Fast fleeting away;
And the things which thou lovest,
Though pleasant they be,
And the friends thou hast chosen
Are fading with thee.
It seemeth to say,—
‘Thus, too, is thy Summer
Fast fleeting away;
And the things which thou lovest,
Though pleasant they be,
And the friends thou hast chosen
Are fading with thee.
Dost thou covet a Summer
More certain of bliss?—
Go seek thee a country
Far brighter than this;
Where the joys thou hast lost
Thou shalt never deplore,
And the friends thou hast chosen
Shall quit thee no more.’
More certain of bliss?—
Go seek thee a country
Far brighter than this;
Where the joys thou hast lost
Thou shalt never deplore,
And the friends thou hast chosen
Shall quit thee no more.’
| Hymns and Poems | |