Classic Poem

The glory of summer with its banks of rose
And fields of blossoms, and its moonlit night
Flooded with marvellous entrancing light,
And dewy plains whereover love's foot goes,
Is as our sacred love — wherethrough there glows
Passion, divine, and limitlessly bright:
Passion which deepens as the hours take flight;
Passion which scorns the pale thought of repose.

In all the life of summer we are one:
One in its splendour and triumphant power;
One with its every star and leaf and flower
And moon and wave and cloudless heaven and sun;
One with it in its most luxuriant hour,
And in its sorrow, — when its life is done.