A SONG OF SUMMER by KATHARINE TYNAN

OH, sweet it is in Summer,
When leaves are fair and long,
To lie amid lush, scented grass,
Where gold and grey the shadows pass,
A swift, unresting throng;
And hear low river voices
Sing o'er the shining sands,
That seem a glory garb to wear
Of emerald and jacinth rare,
The work of fairy hands;
And see afar the mountains, heaven-kissed,
Shine through the white rain's silvery-sheeted mist.
Oh, fair the balmy morning,
When gay the sun doth ride,
And white plumes sail against the blue,
And all the land is fresh with dew,
And sweet the hay-fields wide!
Yet fairer windless evening,
When the pale vesper star
Parts her long veil of dusky hair,
And looks with gentle eyes and fair
From palaces afar,
And sings the nightingale to tranced skies
Of love and pain and all high mysteries.

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