Voice on the Wind, and Other Poems

<h2><SPAN name="THE_END_OF_SUMMER" id="THE_END_OF_SUMMER"></SPAN>THE END OF SUMMER</h2> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Pods are the poppies, and slim spires of pods<br/></span> <span class="i1">The hollyhocks; the balsam's pearly bredes<br/></span> <span class="i1">Of rose-stained snow are little sacs of seeds<br/></span> <span class="i0">Collapsing at a touch; the lote, that sods<br/></span> <span class="i0">The pond with green, has changed its flowers to rods<br/></span> <span class="i1">And discs of vesicles; and all the weeds,<br/></span> <span class="i1">Around the sleepy water and its reeds.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Are one white smoke of seeded silk that nods.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Summer is dead, ay me! sweet Summer's dead!<br/></span> <span class="i1">The sunset clouds have built her funeral pyre,<br/></span> <span class="i1">Through which, e'en now, runs subterranean fire:<br/></span> <span class="i0">While from the East, as from a garden bed,<br/></span> <span class="i1">Mist-vined, the Dusk lifts her broad moon&mdash;like some<br/></span> <span class="i1">Great golden melon&mdash;saying, "Fall has come."<br/></span></div> </div> <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</SPAN></span></p> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />