Page:Poems Craik.djvu/215

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SUMMER GONE.
197
O youth immortal—O undying love!
  With these by winter fireside we 'll sit down
  Wearing our snows of honor like a crown;
And sing as in a grove,
Where the full nests ring out with happy cheer,
"Summer is here."

Roll round, strange years; swift seasons, come and go;
  Ye leave upon us but an outward sign;
  Ye cannot touch the inward and divine,
While God alone does know;
There sealed till summers, winters, all shall cease
In His deep peace.

Therefore uprouse ye winds and howl your will;
  Beat, beat, ye sobbing rains on pane and door;
  Enter, slow-footed age, and thou, obscure,
Grand Angel—not of ill;
Healer of every wound, where'er thou come,
Glad, we 'll go home.