Poems (Cook)/Summer's Farewell

by Eliza Cook

SUMMER'S FAREWELL

What sound is that? 'Tis Summer's farewell,
 In the breath of the night-wind sighing;
The chill breeze comes like a sorrowful dirge,
 That wails o'er the dead and the dying.
The sapless leaves are eddying round,
 On the path which they lately shaded:
The oak of the forest is losing its robe;
 The flowers have fallen and faded.
All that I look on but saddens my heart,
To think that the lovely so soon should depart.

Yet why should I sigh? Other summers will come,
 Joys like the past one bringing:
Again will the vine bear its blushing fruit;
 Again will the birds be singing.
The forest will put forth its "honours" again;
 The rose be as sweet in its breathing;
The woodbine will climb round the lattice pane,
 As wild and rich in its wreathing.
The hives will have honey, the bees will hum;
Other flowers will spring, other summers will come!

They will, they will; but ah! who can tell
 Whether I may live on till their coming?
This spirit may sleep too soundly then
 To wake with the warbling or humming.
This cheek, now pale, may be paler far
 When the summer sun next is glowing;
The cherishing rays may gild with light
 The grass on my grave-turf growing.
Oh what a change in my spirit's dream
May there be ere the summer sun next shall beam!