Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

MIDSUMMER by ALEXANDER L. POSEY

First Line: I SEE THE MILLET COMBING GOLD
Last Line: THAT TREMBLES, AND DIES IN MOUNTING.
Subject(s): SUMMER;
I see the millet combing gold
From summer sun,
In hussar caps, all day;
And brown quails run
Far down the dusty way,
Fly up and whistle from the wold;

Sweet delusions on the mountains,
Of hounds in chase,
Beguiling every care
Of life apace,
Though only fevered air
That trembles, and dies in mounting.




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