'Summer Time Ends.'
You need but turn a leaf
In this small book, whose brief
Laconic notes make up
A skeleton map
Of the year's delight and grief,
To see in black and white
What bone has felt, heart known:
Summer Time Ends.

Leaves, which in spring were made
Marvellously of jade
And under summer's heat
Deepened to malachite,
Hang brittle now and brown:
One gale will bring all down.
Summer Time Ends.

Move back those cheating hands:
Time is not checked by lies.
Reclaim the hostage hour you gave in spring
To gain fool's paradise.
Come down again to earth.
Let clocks and hearts tell truth,
That brave, that bitter thing:
Summer Time Ends.