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TWO SUMMERS.
Saying, "When next these purple bells
And these red columbines return,—
When woods are full of piny smells
And this faint fragrance of the fern,—
And these red columbines return,—
When woods are full of piny smells
And this faint fragrance of the fern,—
"When the wild white-weed's bright surprise
Looks up from all the strawberried plain
Like thousands of astonished eyes,—
Dear child, you will be well again!"
Looks up from all the strawberried plain
Like thousands of astonished eyes,—
Dear child, you will be well again!"
Again the marvellous days are here;
Warm on my check the sunshine burns,
And fledged birds chirp, and far and near
Floats the strange sweetness of the ferns.
Warm on my check the sunshine burns,
And fledged birds chirp, and far and near
Floats the strange sweetness of the ferns.
But now these ways I walk alone,
Tearless, companionless, and dumb,—
Or rest upon this wayside stone,
To wait for one who does not come.
Tearless, companionless, and dumb,—
Or rest upon this wayside stone,
To wait for one who does not come.
Yet all is even as I foretold:
The summer shines on wave and wild,
The fern is fragrant as of old,
And you are well again, dear child!
The summer shines on wave and wild,
The fern is fragrant as of old,
And you are well again, dear child!
