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 | The Collected Poetry of Paul Laurence Dunbar : |  |
Summer in the South
The oriole sings in the greening groveAs if he were half-way waiting,
The rosebuds peep from their hoods of green,
Timid and hesitating.
The rain comes down in a torrent sweep
And the nights smell warm and piney,
The garden thrives, but the tender shoots
Are yellow-green and tiny.
Then a flash of sun on a waiting hill,
Streams laugh that erst were quiet,
The sky smiles down with a dazzling blue
And the woods run mad with riot.
| The Collected Poetry of Paul Laurence Dunbar : | |