Summer Is Come
Summer is come; the corn is in the ear,
The haze is swimming where the beeches stand;
Summer is come, though winter months be here—
My love is summer passing through the land.
Summer is come; I hear the skylarks sing,
The honeysuckle flaunts it to the bees;
Summer is come, and ’tis not yet the spring—
My love is summer blessing all she sees.
Summer is come; I see an open door,
A sweet hand beckons, and I know
That, winter or summer, I shall go forth no more—
My heart is homing where her summer-roses grow.
| O FLOWER OF ALL THE WORLD | |
| O flower of all the world, O flower of all, The garden where thou dwellest is so fair, Thou art so goodly, and so queenly tall, Thy sweetness scatters sweetness everywhere, O flower of all! | |
| O flower of all the years, O flower of all, A day beside thee is a day of days; Thy voice is softer than the throstle’s call, There is not song enough to sing thy praise, O flower of all! | |
| O flower of all the years, O flower of all, I seek thee in thy garden, and I dare To love thee; and though my deserts be small, Thou art the only flower I would wear, O flower of all! |