Eternal Summer

Think not that summer ends but rather say

Bright June lies sleeping in December's arms;

That in the shining pattern of today

Are yesterdays of beauty with their charms:

For summer mounts on spurs of columbine,

Her fragrance lingers in a lilied-grot;

A lark-flute rhapsody is ever mine

Recorded on the microfilm of thought.

The hollyhocks still hold their tapers high;

A moon canoe glides smoothly on the lake;

In winter's sculptured silence killdeer cry

And redbirds flash a challenge from the brake--

When the last darkness falls, we wake at dawn

To hear eternal summer's antiphon.