Lord: it is time. The summer was so grand. Upon sundials now Thy shadow lay, Set free Thy winds and send them over the land. Command to ripen those last fruits of Thine; And give them two more southern days of grace To reach their perfect fullness, and then chase The final sweetness into heavy wine. Who now is homeless, never will build a home. Who now is lonely, long alone will stay, Will watch and read and write long letters gray, And in the long lanes to and fro will roam All restless, as the drifting fall-leaves stray. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VICTOR GALBRAITH by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TO THE LADYBIRD by MOTHER GOOSE SONG, FR. THE TWO GENTELEM OF VERONA by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE VERSES FOR CHILDREN: CHRISTMAS TREE by ZEDA K. AILES THE LAST LOOK O' HAME by HEW AINSLIE THE 'STAY AT HOME'S' PLAINT, 1878 by GEORGE AUGUSTUS BAKER JR. SPRING MORNING by MAVIS CLARE BARNETT |