A Reed by the River/In Tune
IN TUNE
Like to the bee, that saves its treasured sweet,
From summer's feet,
I fain would draw from every radiant flower
My little hour;
Like to the tree that cradled songs of spring
Yet saw each thing
Fly hence and leave it voiceless to stand
'Neath the wind's hand;
I, harboring some melody once strong,
—Even unuttered song,—
Though summer's note be silent, June's rose past,
Would keep the heart in tune until the last.
From summer's feet,
I fain would draw from every radiant flower
My little hour;
Like to the tree that cradled songs of spring
Yet saw each thing
Fly hence and leave it voiceless to stand
'Neath the wind's hand;
I, harboring some melody once strong,
—Even unuttered song,—
Though summer's note be silent, June's rose past,
Would keep the heart in tune until the last.