WHEN friendly summer calls again, Calls again Her little fifers to these hills, We'll go -- we two -- to that arched fane Of leafage where they prime their bills Before they start to flood the plain With quavers, minims, shakes, and trills. "-- We'll go," I sing; but who shall say What may not chance before that day! And we shall see the waters spring, Waters spring From chinks the scrubby copses crown; And we shall trace their oncreeping To where the cascade tumbles down And sends the bobbing growths aswing, And ferns not quite but almost drown. "-- We shall," I say; but who may sing Of what another moon will bring! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET TO ALISA ROCK by JOHN KEATS ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY: THE HYMN by JOHN MILTON THE CASTLE BY THE SEA by JOHANN LUDWIG UHLAND GOOD LUCK by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS PRAYER AFTER YOUTH by MAXWELL ANDERSON EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 6. FAIR AND SOFTLY by PHILIP AYRES |