Classic Poem

Summer wanes—I saw a swallow flying
Southward in the search of love and light.
Sweetheart, hearken how the wind is sighing,
Ever after blossom cometh blight.

Summer wanes—I found a lily lying
Withered by the frost of yesternight.
Sweetheart mine, the roses are a-dying,
Ever after blossom cometh blight.

Summer wanes—my lips are weary crying,
“Love me a little when the sun is bright.”
Even as I plead the echoes are replying,
“Ever after blossom cometh blight.”

Summer wanes—no longer, fate defying,
Dally with Time, who is so swift of flight;
But place thy hand in mine and laugh, denying
Ever after blossom cometh blight.