The End of Summer

 

The Dandelion sails away,-

Some other port for him next spring;

Since they have seen the harvest home,

Sweet birds have little more to sing.

 

Since from her side the corn is ta'en,

The poppy thought to win some praise;

But birds sang ne'er a welcome note,

So she blushed scarlet all her days.

 

The children strip the blackberry bush,

And search the hedge for the bitter sloe;

They bite the sloes, now sweet as plums-

After Jack Frost had bit them so.

 

'Twas this Jack Frost, one week ago'

Made watchdogs whine with fear and cold;

But all he did was make fruits smell,

And make their coats to shine like gold.

 

No scattering force is in the wind,

Through strong to shake the leaf from stem;

The leaves get in the rill's sweet throat,

His voice is scarely heard through them.

 

The darkest woods let in the light,

And thin and frail are looking now;

And yet their weight is more than June's,

Since nuts bend down each hazel bough.