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Hush! Summer's passing!
Through the ripened wheat There comes the silver cadence Of her feet. The mornings veil The loveliness of her In sheerest webs Of fairy gossamer. Hush! Summer's fading! On the withered grass Her hurried foot-steps Falter as they pass. Reluctantly she drops A paling rose Whose beauty lingers As the summer goes. Hush! Summer's dying! Spread a winding sheet Of glowing autumn For her wearied feet. The bright hills would have held Her, as she passed . . . Hush! Summer's left us - Loveliest at the last! |
The Call of Kansas and Other Poems
Esther M. (Clark) Hill
(Cedar Rapids: Torch Press. __)
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