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Show SUMMER IS DEAD. Summer lsdead! All the stubble fields knell it. Summer ia dead, who was blithesome and gay Silence and sound have united to tell It; Summer U dead ; and alack a day ! Sweet washer smile , when with shy, gentle greeting " She led back the rossto the hedgo rows of June! Kindly the heart that no longer is beating Throbbe d 'ncath the light of the tender young moon, Where il the life of her, sweet hearted sum- mer! We all so loved her, was she not content? Ah, like each child of time, time hath o'ercome her. Still she lies, cold she lies, roses all spent. Ah, like the rest of us when she was bidden, Meekly she folded her brown hands to rest Why was ltf Who can tell? All that is hidden hid-den Why does the sunlight fade out tn the West? Only we know when the stubble fields knell it, Echoing the cricket's small, shrill roundelay Silence and sound united t- tell It; Summer Is dead, and alack a day! CharU$ Woble Crenor. |