THE SONGS OF SUMMER.

The songs of summer are over and past!

The swallow's forsaken the dripping eaves;

Ruined and black‘ mid the sodden leaves

The nests are rudely swung in the blast:

And ever the wind like a soul in pain

Knocks and knocks at the window-pane.

The songs of summer are over and past!

Woe's me for a music sweeter than theirs —

The quick, light bound of a step on the stairs,

The greeting of lovers too sweet to last:

And ever the wind like a soul in pain

Knocks and knocks at the window-pane.