SUMMER IS COME

By Gilbert Parker

Summer is come; the corn is in the ear,

The haze is swimming where the beeches stand;

Summer is come, though winter months be here —

My love is summer passing through the land.

Summer is come; I hear the skylarks sing,

The honeysuckle flaunts it to the bees;

Summer is come, and‘ tis not yet the spring —

My love is summer blessing all she sees.

Summer is come; I see an open door,

A sweet hand beckons, and I know

That, winter or summer, I shall go forth no more —

My heart is homing where her summer-roses grow.