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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE WORD OF SUMMER, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Dropping roses from her hand
Last Line: "then begin again."
Subject(s): Summer

Dropping roses from her hand,
Came dear Summer down the land,
With her hair a tawny banner
By the breezes fanned.

And she looked and laughed at me,
Where I sat all mournfully,
Counting over my lost labors
Near a cypress tree.

And she said: "Oh! why repine?
All these patient works of mine—
Leaves and flowers and fragrant apples—
I must soon resign.

"Not one blossom will remain:
But do I, like thee, complain?
Nay, I pause and rest a season,
Then begin again."

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