SUMMER

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Winter is cold-hearted
Spring is yea and nay,
Autumn is a weather-cock
Blown every way:
Summer days for me
When every leaf is on the tree,
When Robbin's not a beggar,
And Jenny Wren's a bride,
And larks hang singing, singing, singing
Over the wheat fields wide,
And anchored lilies ride,
And the pendulum spider
Swings from side to side,
And blue-black beetles transact business
And gnats fly in a host,
And furry caterpillars hasten
That no time be lost,
And moths grow fat and thrive,
And ladybirds arrive.
          Before green apples blush,
          Before green nuts embrown
          Why, one day in the country,
          Is worth a month in town.

 

 

© Ch. Rosseti
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© E-magazine LiterNet, 13.01.2000, ¹ 1 (2)