SUMMER WOODS. 
9 
1 
Dost remember how she loved 
Those rose-leaves pale and sere? 
I wish she had but lived to see 
The lovely roses here ! 
Put up thy work, dear mother, 
And wipe those tears away! 
And come into the garden 
Before ’tis set of day ! 
SUMMER WOODS. 
Come ye into the summer-woods; 
There entereth no annoy ; 
All greenly wave the chesnut leaves, 
And the earth is full of joy. 
I cannot te-ll you half the sights 
Of beauty you may see, 
The bursts of golden sunshine, 
And many a shady tree. 
There, lightly swung, in bowery glades. 
The honey-suckles twine; 
There blooms the rose-red campion. 
And the dark-blue columbine. 
