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When Spring is past stay with me, Love,
When wolds lie panting under June,
When tempering earthward tears to prove
Heaven's pity cease to fall, we swoon
Wrapped in heat's hazy hanging mist
With seeming far-off souls and list
To that immeasurable tune
Nature plays Love.
When whiter weather holds the land
In iron chains and shrill alarms
The north winds blow, take thou my hand
Again, Oh Love, and from all harms
Bred errant ways withdraw my feet,
Leading me to thy kingdom sweet,
Of changeless skies, where in thine arms
Enfold me, Love!
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