Classic Poem

The summer shimmering to-day
Puts on the earth a rune,
Which blends in magic waves of light,
Beneath the sky of June.

Along the pavements of the street,
And in the crowded mart,
There is a joy of summer-time,
A comforting of heart.

To-day one hardly can believe,
Along these pavements old,
That March held such an icy sway
Of bitterness and cold.

The little gamin of the street,
Full keeping with the boy,
Forgetting all his winter woes,
Is hallooing for joy.

And I go back to youth again,
And get myself away,
To where the country fields are in
The green and blue of May.

And on I sweetly glide with them,
With changing song and tune.
With bursting buds and brilliant dyes,
That line the lap of June.

The morning trembles with its throbs
Of ever-gushing notes,
Which pour with shuddering sweetness from
A thousand feathered throats.
'Tis true the shadows of four walls
Are ever on me cast,
But they have a transparency,
To me of a sweet past.