Summer Is Come

Summer is come; the corn is in the ear, The haze is swimming where the beeches stand; Summer is come, though winter months be here-- My love is summer passing through the land.

Summer is come; I hear the skylarks sing, The honeysuckle flaunts it to the bees; Summer is come, and 'tis not yet the spring-- My love is summer blessing all she sees.

Summer is come; I see an open door, A sweet hand beckons, and I know That, winter or summer, I shall go forth no more-- My heart is homing where her summer-roses grow.