Page:The ascent of man by Blind, Mathilde.djvu/157



songs of summer are over and past!
 * The swallow's forsaken the dripping eaves;
 * Ruined and black 'mid the sodden leaves

The nests are rudely swung in the blast:
 * And ever the wind like a soul in pain
 * Knocks and knocks at the window-pane.

The songs of summer are over and past!
 * Woe's me for a music sweeter than theirs—
 * The quick, light bound of a step on the stairs,

The greeting of lovers too sweet to last:
 * And ever the wind like a soul in pain
 * Knocks and knocks at the window-pane.