Poems (King)/Summer

For works with similar titles, see Summer.
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Summer
WHEN laughs the morning
  In rosy skies,
And on swift pinions
  Chill darkness flies,
When the soft breezes
  In tree-tops high
Sing with glad murmur—
  Summer is nigh.

When comes the noontide,
  Radiant, divine,
And the sun's goblet
  Pours golden wine,
Drowsy earth slumbers,
  Save the bee's hum,
Naught breaks the silence,—
  Summer has come.

When Hesper trembles
  In the far blue,
And twilight droppeth
  Soft tears of dew,
Hark! in the gloaming,
  Mellow and clear,
Sing hermit thrushes,—
  Summer is here!

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