In Summer

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Title:     In Summer
Author: David Morton [More Titles by Morton]

I think these stars that draw so strangely near,
That lean and listen for the turning earth,
Are never wholly careless when they hear
The murmur of her hushed and quiet mirth,--
But looking out upon a world in bloom,
They half-remember, and they heed and hark:
An old, old sweetness in the scented gloom,
An old, old music in the singing dark.

Their own full Summers gone, such aeons past,
Bird-song and bloom and swallow from the sky,
These dead, desireless worlds find here, at last,
Something remembered when the earth turns by,
Sweet with these blowing odours they had known,
This happy music that was once their own.

[The end]
David Morton's poem: In Summer

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