Light loves and soon forgotten hates,
Heat-lightnings of the brooding summer sky —
Ye too bred of the summer's heat,
Ye too, like summer, fleet —
Ye have gone by.
Walks in the woods and whispers over gates,
Gay rivalries of tennis and croquet —
Gone with the summer sweet,
Gone with the swallow fleet
Southward away!
Breath of the rose, laughter of maids
Kissed into silence by the setting moon;
Wind of the morn that wakes and blows,
And hastening night that goes
Too soon — too soon!
Meetings and partings, tokens, serenades,
Tears — idle tears — and coy denials vain;
Flower of the summer's rose,
Say, will your leaves unclose
Ever again?