Summer is here—­
  let us drain
It all! it may
  Not come again.

II

How the leaves thicken
  On the boughs,
And the birds make
 Their lyric vows.

O the beating, breaking
  Heart of things,
The pulse and passion—­
  How it sings.

How it burns and flames
  And showers,
Lusts and laughs, flowers
  And deflowers.

III

Summer came,
Rose on rose;
Leaf on leaf,
Summer goes.

Summer came,
Song on song;
O summer had
A golden tongue.

Summer goes,
Sigh on sigh;
Not a rose
Sees him die.

TO A WILD BIRD

Wild bird, I stole you from your nest,
  And cannot find your nest again;
To hear you chirp a little while
  I wrung your mother’s heart with pain.

And here you sit and droop and die,
  Nor any love that I can bring
Wins me forgiveness for the wrong,
  Nor any kindness makes you sing.

“I crossed the orchard walking home”

I crossed the orchard, walking home,
  The rising moon was at my back,
The apples and the moonlight fell
  Together on the railroad track.

Then, speeding through the evening dews,
  A dozen lighted windows glide—­
The East-bound flyer for New York,
  Soft as a magic-lantern slide.

New York! on through the sleeping flowers,
  Through echoing midnight on to noon;
How strange that yonder is New York,
  And here such silence and the moon.

“I meant to do my work to-day”

I meant to do my work to-day—­
  But a brown bird sang in the apple-tree,
And a butterfly flitted across the field,
  And all the leaves were calling me.

And the wind went sighing over the land,
  Tossing the grasses to and fro,
And a rainbow held out its shining hand—­
  So what could I do but laugh and go?

“How fast the year is going by”

How fast the year is going by! 
  Love, it will be September soon;
  O let us make the best of June. 
Already, love, it is July;
  The rose and honeysuckle go,
  And all too soon will come the snow.

Dark berries take the place of flowers,
  Of summer August still remains,
  Then sad September with her rains. 
O love, how short a year is ours—­
  So swiftly does the summer fly,
  Scarce time is left to say goodbye.

AUGUST MOONLIGHT

The solemn light behind the barns,
  The rising moon, the cricket’s call,
The August night, and you and I—­
  What is the meaning of it all!