160
SUMMER WEPT.
"My country! thou art hers, she thine, forever;
May the tongue speak, and may the heart beat never,
That would undo the ties that bind thee one;
She shall be thine—heaven hath received the token—
And thou art hers—those vows can ne'er be broken,
While lips breathe 'Washington!'"
May the tongue speak, and may the heart beat never,
That would undo the ties that bind thee one;
She shall be thine—heaven hath received the token—
And thou art hers—those vows can ne'er be broken,
While lips breathe 'Washington!'"
SUMMER WEPT.
Thou didst weep, Summer, when thy soft feet pressed
The verdant covering Spring had left behind;
We heard the sighs that trembled from thy breast,
Come in the murmurs of the broken wind;
And from the mourning skies the bright drops fell,
Bathing in tears the hill and wood and dell.
The verdant covering Spring had left behind;
We heard the sighs that trembled from thy breast,
Come in the murmurs of the broken wind;
And from the mourning skies the bright drops fell,
Bathing in tears the hill and wood and dell.
Was there a darkness o'er thy pathway thrown,
Or didst thou miss a flower thy spirit sought?
Was there a gem thou could'st not call thine own,
A smile thou thought'st to meet, and found it not?
Or didst thou miss a flower thy spirit sought?
Was there a gem thou could'st not call thine own,
A smile thou thought'st to meet, and found it not?
