Lo! Summer serenly advances,
Arrayed in the smiles of the sun;
While zephyrs are weaving their dances
In the vales where the rivulets run;
And notes from the woodland soothingly steal
The heart that is wounded--never to heal.
When alone--a recluse in the bower--
Communion with Nature how sweet!
Her whispers and smiles have the power,
'Mid the charms of her fairy retreat,
To recall the blest hours whose flight we bemoan,
And awake in the soul a heaven of its own.
Though Summer ere long with her pleasures
Must yield to the cold Winter blast,
And we who are fed from her treasures
Depart, and be lost in the past;
Yet hope, like a star still unclouded and bright,
Dispels every fear, and illumines the night.