 | ["Make me a summer song, for music meet", in] In memoriam Sarah Loring McKaye Warner |  |
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[Make me a summer song, for music meet]
“Make me a summer song, for music meet,
And you shall hear it when you come again.
Let it be full of life
And sunshine and of flowers.
And you shall hear it when you come again.
Let it be full of life
And sunshine and of flowers.
“Thus should it run,”—she smiling spoke, and then
Struck the white keys and played a joyful tune:
'T was winter, but I thought
The birds began to sing.
Struck the white keys and played a joyful tune:
'T was winter, but I thought
The birds began to sing.
I waited till the buds should bloom once more,
For then, I said, my song were better tuned—
Catching a sound of mirth
From the awakening world.
For then, I said, my song were better tuned—
Catching a sound of mirth
From the awakening world.
O friend,—dear friend! The winter has gone by
But still thy poet's song will not be glad
While the bright flowers of June
Blossom above thy grave.
But still thy poet's song will not be glad
While the bright flowers of June
Blossom above thy grave.
Richard Watson Gilder.
| ["Make me a summer song, for music meet", in] In memoriam Sarah Loring McKaye Warner | |