Summer's last sun nigh unto setting shines <br />Through yon columnar pines, <br />And on the deepening shadows of the lawn <br />Its golden lines are drawn. <br /> <br />Dreaming of long gone summer days like this, <br />Feeling the wind's soft kiss, <br />Grateful and glad that failing ear and sight <br />Have still their old delight, <br /> <br />I sit alone, and watch the warm, sweet day <br />Lapse tenderly away; <br />And, wistful, with a feeling of forecast, <br />I ask, 'Is this the last? <br /> <br />'Will nevermore for me the seasons run <br />Their round, and will the sun <br />Of ardent summers yet to come forget <br />For me to rise and set?' <br /> <br />Thou shouldst be here, or I should be with thee <br />Wherever thou mayst be, <br />Lips mute, hands clasped, in silences of speech <br />Each answering unto each. <br /> <br />For this still hour, this sense of mystery far <br />Beyond the evening star, <br />No words outworn suffice on lip or scroll: <br />The soul would fain with soul <br /> <br />Wait, while these few swift-passing days fulfil <br />The wise-disposing Will, <br />And, in the evening as at morning, trust <br />The All-Merciful and Just. <br /> <br />The solemn joy that soul-communion feels <br />Immortal life reveals; <br />And human love, its prophecy and sign, <br />Interprets love divine. <br /> <br />Come then, in thought, if that alone may be, <br />O friend! and bring with thee <br />Thy calm assurance of transcendent Spheres <br />And the Eternal Years!<br /><br />John Greenleaf Whittier<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-last-eve-of-summer/
