Summer Days

INTER is cold-hearted; Autumn is a weathercock; Blown every way: Summer days for me When every leaf is on its tree, When Robin's not a beggar, And Jenny Wren's a bride, And larks hang, singing, singing, singing, Over the wheat-fields wide, And anchored lilies ride, And the pendulum spider Swings from side to side. SPARE THAT TREE And blue-black beetles transact business, And gnats fly in ahost And furry caterpillars hasten That no time be lost, Andmoths grow fat and thrive, And lady birds arrive. Before green apples blush, Before green nuts embrown, Why, one day in the country Is worth a month in townIs worth a day and ayear Of the dusty, musty, lag-last fashion That days drone elsewhere.