As imperceptibly as grief
The summer lapsed away,
Too imperceptible at last
To feel like perfidy.
A quietness distilled,
As twilight long begun,
Or Nature spending with herself
Sequestered afternoon.
The dusk drew earlier in,
The morning foreign shone,
A courteous yet harrowing grace
As guest that would be gone.
And thus without a wing
Or service of a keel
Our summer made her light escape
Into the Beautiful.
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higher life — may well end with her description of the death of the very summer she so loved.
Houghton Mifflin Press. 1909.
Tufts University provided support for entering this text.
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