Farewell. 145 



Sweet summer ! to the captive 



Thou hast flown in burning dreams 

 Of the woods, with all their whispering leaves, 



And the blue rejoicing streams; 



" To the wasted and the weary, 

 On the bed of sickness bound, 

 In swift delirious fantasies. 



That changed with every wound ; 



" To the sailor on the billows. 

 In longings wild and vain 

 For the gushing founts and breezy hills. 

 And the homes of earth again ! 



" And unto me, glad summer, * 



How hast thou flown to me ! 

 My chainless ffXitsteps naught hath kept 

 From thy haunts of song and glee ! 



*•' Thou hast flown in wayward visions. 

 In memories of the dead — 

 In shadows from a troubled heart 

 O'er thy sunny pathway shed. 



" In brief and sudden strivings 

 To fling a weight aside — 

 'Midst these thy melodies have ceased, 

 And all thy roses died. 



*' But oh, thou gentle summer ! 



If I greet thy flowers once more, 

 Bring me again the buoyancy 

 Wherewith my soul should soar. 



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