Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, INDIAN SUMMER, by MIRIAM DEL BANCO



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

INDIAN SUMMER, by                    
First Line: Through the boughs of em'rald green
Last Line: Always stay.
Subject(s): Indian Summer


Through the boughs of em'rald green
Falls the light;
And the sky's a sea of blue
Flecked with white;
And the flow'rets in their beds
Nod and bend their dainty heads
In delight.

I am sitting where the beams
Brightest fall,
While I listen to the sweet
Birdlings call.
Softly does the ling'ring breeze
Rock the leaflets of the trees
Over all.

Knee-deep in the limpid brook
Stand the kine;
In the light their sleek brown backs
Softly shine;
Slowly crop they grasses rank,
And the vines that on the bank
Upward twine.

Hark! the singing in the fields —
Far away,
Where the men are at their work
Making hay;
But the words come brokenly,
For the breezes waft from me
What they say.

Through the woods the autumn's hand
Paints the leaves;
In the fields the reapers bind
Golden sheaves;
While the purple clusters glow
Where the vines swing to and to
'Neath the eaves.

Soon will all these radiant hues
Fade away,
For their splendor is the mark
Of decay;
Soon will Indian summer wane,
Though our hearts would bid it fain
Always stay.





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