Sing me a song of Summer,
For my heart is wintry sad.
That glorious, bright new-comer,
Who makes all nature glad!
Sing me a song of Summer,
That the dark from the bright may borrow,
And the part in the radiant whole of things
May drown its little sorrow!
Sing me a song of Summer,
When God walks forth in light,
And spreads his glowing mantle
O'er the blank and the grey of the night;
And where he comes, his quickening touch
Revives the insensate dead.
And the numbed and frozen pulse of things
Beats music to his tread.
Sing me a song of Summer,
With his banners of golden bloom,
That glorious, bright new-comer.
Who bears bleak winter's doom!
With banners of gold and of silver.
And wings of rosy display.
And verdurous power in his path.
When he comes in the pride of the May.
When he comes with his genial sweep
O'er the barren and bare of the scene,
And makes the stiff earth to wave
With an ocean of undulant green;
With flourish of leafy expansion.
And boast of luxuriant bloom,
And the revel of life as it triumphs
O'er the dust and decay of the tomb.
Sing me a song of Summer;
O God! what a glorious thing
Is the march of this mighty new-comer
With splendour of joy on his wing!
When he quickens the pulse of creation.
And maketh all feebleness strong.
Till it spread into blossoms of beauty.
And burst into paeans of song!
Sing me a song of Summer!
Though my heart be wintry and sad,
The thought of this blessed new-comer
Shall foster the germ of the glad.
'Neath the veil of my grief let me cherish
The joy that shall rush into day.
When the bane of the winter shall perish
In the pride and the power of the May.