Poems (Blake)/"There's Rosemary"

by Mary Elizabeth Blake

"THERE'S ROSEMARY—THAT'S FOR REMEMBRANCE?"

 Low in the west to crimson turning,
  The sun like a jewel set in gold
 Over the breast of the twilight burning,
  Fastens its mantle fold on fold;
The sea like a maiden's face is glowing,
The sweet south wind is merrily blowing,
Still am I sad, for summer is going,—
   Summer is going,—summer is gone!

 Never a leaf on the tree is faded,
  Never a blade of the grass is sere,
 Gayer and brighter the flowers are shaded,
  Fairer and fairer grows the year;
Only—who knows what my fancy is showing—
Only the roses no longer are growing,
Only I feel that the summer is going,—
   Summer is going,—summer is gone!

 Brighter and brighter the skies are shining,
  Deeper and deeper the fresh air thrills,
 Larger and fuller the vines are twining,
  Clearer than ever the distant hills,
The full tides sweep in their ebbing and flowing,
Nothing is lost that is worth the knowing,
Only I feel that summer is going,—
   Summer is going,—summer is gone!

 What do I mourn? Who knows? For surely
  Never was world more fair than now;
 From the harvest moon as it rides so purely,
  To the red ripe apple upon the bough:
What do I mourn? Alas! no knowing;
Nothing is lost that is worth the showing,
Only I feel that summer is going,—
   Summer is going,—summer is gone!