The mists of a summer ending, <br />A tree where the last bird sings, <br />The day and the night hours blending, <br />You will remember these things; <br />Slow spirals of smoke from the burning <br />Of dead leaves under the wall, <br />And hope, from ambition turning, <br />After it all. The spirit of a soundless treading, <br />worn steps where stray moonbeams fell, <br />The hour and the timeless dreading, <br />You will remember them well; <br />A rhyme with its faint words spoken <br />By a dimly-remembered tongue, <br />A note, and a listener broken <br />After a song. And then in the quiet shading <br />Moved from the heart's hot fret, <br />The years and a lifetime fading, <br />You will remember them yet; <br />Your joy in the joy forsaken, <br />Fragrance of flowers long forgot <br />Will stir and in beauty waken <br />When I am not.<br /><br />John A. Hammond<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/you-will-remember/
