Page:Poems Kennedy.djvu/26

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INDIAN SUMMER
A WHIP of mist across the silver dawn,
  A At eventide a purple haze
    Shot full of glinting fire;
And on the everlasting hills,
  Where runs the road of Heart's Desire,
  The Bob-white's call of love
    Through vagrant ways.

Stirred by the wind the tawny sedge grass swings
  In waves that never touch a shore
    Nor break in foam;
And o'er their windy wastes, on wings of flame,
  The scarlet tanager flits home—
  A voiceless specter of the spring
    And its sweet lore.

The daisies of St. Michael crest the hedge
  Where droops the faded goldenrod—
    A miser's rifled dream;
And in the heart that erst was reft of hope
  A brooding peace that reigns supreme,
  And in the soul a sense
    Of kinship unto God.

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