Classic Poem

Oh! for a day of burning noon
And a sun like a glowing ember,
Oh! for one hour of golden June,
In the heart of this chill November.

I can scarcely remember the Spring's soft breath
Or imagine the Summer hazes.
The yellow woods are so damp with death
That I have forgotten the daisies.

Oh! to lie watching the sky again,
From a nest of hot grass and clover,
Till the stars come out like golden rain
When the lazy day is over.

And crowning the night with an aureole,
As the clouds kiss and drift asunder,
The moon floats up like a luminous soul,
And the stars grow pale for wonder.