Poems (Chitwood)/The Summer Flowers

by Mary Louisa Chitwood

THE SUMMER FLOWERS.

They have passed away from the vale and hill,
From the woodland shades, from the dancing rill—
They have passed away in the Autumn's breath,
They are sleeping now, in the sleep of death.

In the sunny breath of the early Spring,
What a host of flowers did the fair one bring;
How she cast them round by every tree,
On the hill, on the vale, o'er the grassy lea.

Oh! some were touched with a rosy hue,
Some seemed to have caught the sky's deep blue,
And some peeped forth in a snowy white,
And some in a paly golden light.

They were a fragile race of flowers,
They passed away in the Spring-time hours,
'Mid the rainbow smiles of an April day,
And the sunbeams soft of the joyous May.

Then, in the long, bright, sunny hours
Of the laughing June, came a wealth of flowers—
Sweet roses of every tint and hue,
Were breathing perfume from the evening dew.

Then came a change in the long, cold night;
There fell from the sky a death-like blight,
And in the early morning hours,
The dew-drops were turned to frost on the flowers.

They have passed away from the vale and hill,
From the woodland shades, from the laughing rill;
They have passed away from the Summer bowers,
That gentle race of the lovely flowers.