Now comes the Seasons' high and ardent noon,
Fulfillment of Spring's youthful prophecy,
Full-flow red and fruited. Hesitatingly
She follows on the last, late showers of June,
Bringing the roses and a waxing moon.
Enamoured of her beauty, fervently
The Sun-God leans, with oaths of constancy
To kiss her face. Oh! days of warmth and boon,
Wrapped in a haze of sun lit, drowsy peace!
Oh! purple nights, slumbrously passionate,
And bright with starry zones and coronals,
When birds weave webs of silver harmonies
Till air grows heavy with the aural weight,
And silence like a sweeter music falls!