Old Year Leaves Being Old Verses Revised: By H. T. Mackenzie Bell ... New Edition |
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 | Old Year Leaves |  |
212
SUMMER SORROW.
Each season hath its sadness, and for meSummer not least of all. I know not why,
But though its sylvan beauty soothes my soul
Into delicious reveries; while birds,
Discoursing music, fill my dreamy mind
With melodies, and thoughts, and deep delight,
I never felt before—yet still there lurks
Within my heart a strange unfathomed grief,
Which, even amidst harsh Autumn's ravages,
Or grim old Winter's storms, I rarely feel.
| Old Year Leaves | |