<h3 id="Summers_Passing">Summer’s Passing</h3>
<p>A SINGLE branch of flaming red,<br/>
A branch of tawny yellow<br/>
And every branch in gorgeousness<br/>
A rival of its fellow;<br/>
Some russet brown and faded green<br/>
With golden shadows in between<br/>
And mist-hid sun to mellow.</p>
<p>An instinct as of music near—<br/>
A breath the wind is bringing,<br/>
Broken and sweet, as from a host<br/>
Of swift and solemn winging—<br/>
A mystery born of light and sound<br/>
Wrapping our trancéd progress round—<br/>
A sighing and a singing!</p>
<p>Thus in a certain lovely pomp<br/>
We leave the Summer lying—<br/>
These are her funeral banners, this<br/>
The pageantry of dying!<br/>
The music that we almost hear<br/>
Is wafted from her passing bier—<br/>
The singing and the sighing!</p>
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