Poems (McDonald)/The Return of Summer

by Mary Noel McDonald

THE RETURN OF SUMMER.

"I turned from all she brought, to all she could not bring.”
Childe Harold.

I.

Sweet summer! glorious summer!
 Thy footsteps once again
Are on the green delighted earth,
 And o'er the sounding main;
Thy light is on the wilderness,
 Thy glory in the sky,
And thy richly varied melodies
 Are ever floating by;
And out upon the ocean
 Go the ships all bounding free,
With thy gales to bear them onward,
 O'er the bright rejoicing sea.

II.

There are voices, many voices,
 That ever wake with thee—
The laughter of the mountain streams,
 The music of the bee;
Tile humming of bright insect wings
 Amid the leafy trees,
And tile softly breathing whispers
 Of the perfume-laden breeze—
And the merry, merry measures
 Of the feathered songsters gay,
In the meadows and the woodlands,
 Far away—far away!

III.

Thou art roving on the mountains,
 And thy voice is in the dells,
By the sheen of silvery fountains,
 Where the water-spirit dwells;
Where the wild flowers sweet are blushing,
 In many a quiet nook,
And the starry moss lies gleaming
 By the softly-singing brook;
And gemmed with diamond dew-drops,
 The garden blossoms stand,
In their robes of grace and beauty
 O'er all the pleasant land.

IV.

Thou art roving on the mountains!
 But the pent-up city child,
Amid his toil and weariness,
 With thee hath seldom smiled;
He dreameth of thy greenwood shades,
 Where, 'neath its roof of leaves
The summer bird, more blest than he,
 Its airy fabric weaves;
He dreameth of thy solitudes,
 And haply sighs to be
But for one hour, one blessed hour,
 On the breezy hills with thee.

V.

Sweet summer! joyous summer!
 Unto every living thing
Thou art bearing light and gladness
 On thy richly freighted wing;
Thy gifts of bloom are round me,
 And fair thine azure skies,
Yet to me thou bring'st, Oh! Summer fair!
 But tender memories:
Loved voices, whose sweet music
 A spell around me east;
Sweet Summer! glorious Summer!
 Bring me back the past, the past.

VI.

I am musing on the brightness
 That has faded from my view,
And hopes which soared like bright-winged birds,
 In skies for ever blue;
For clouds have dimmed my vision,
 And sadness filled mine eye;
And vainly, Oh! how vainly,
 Do thy golden moments fly;
And in thy sunny gladness
 I can bear no willing part;
Oh! give me back, thou joyous time,
 The summer of the heart!