 | Ballads and Lyrics by Katharine Tynan |  |
137
RAINY SUMMER.
Are these the fields that were so green
When last I came this way?
The hawthorn showed no leaves between,
Stellaria lit the lane that day;
The birds sang well in May
That now forget to sing—
Did our year's sweet go out with Spring?
When last I came this way?
The hawthorn showed no leaves between,
Stellaria lit the lane that day;
The birds sang well in May
That now forget to sing—
Did our year's sweet go out with Spring?
Still falls the melancholy rain,
The tufted grass turns brown;
God's diamond bridge He builds again
To tell the world she shall not drown;
Wet mist's the Summer gown,
Scarcely will Robin sing
His lamentation for the Spring.
The tufted grass turns brown;
God's diamond bridge He builds again
To tell the world she shall not drown;
Wet mist's the Summer gown,
Scarcely will Robin sing
His lamentation for the Spring.
The wood-dove hath not ceased to mourn,
The hare's green couch is wet,
In the drenched corn the poppies burn,
The leaves have many a rivulet;
But Summer hath not set—
Believe you no such thing—
She weeps for yester-year and Spring.
The hare's green couch is wet,
In the drenched corn the poppies burn,
The leaves have many a rivulet;
But Summer hath not set—
Believe you no such thing—
She weeps for yester-year and Spring.
138
Let the Spring sleep, I shall not weep,
She sleeps, and is not dead.
Soon will the wheat grow gold to reap,
And red fires crown the Autumn's head;
When all is done and said,
I still have heart to sing,
For every winter tends to Spring.
She sleeps, and is not dead.
Soon will the wheat grow gold to reap,
And red fires crown the Autumn's head;
When all is done and said,
I still have heart to sing,
For every winter tends to Spring.
| Ballads and Lyrics by Katharine Tynan | |