Coming Summer

What will the summer bring ?
Sunshine and flowers,
Brightness and melody,
Golden-voiced hours ;
Rose-gleaming mornings
Vocal with praise ;
Crimson-flushed evenings,
Nightingale lays.

What may the summer bring ?
Gladness and mirth,
Laughter and song,
For the children of earth ;
Smiles for the old man.
Joy for the strong,
Glee for the little ones
All the day long.

What will the summer bring ?
Coolness and shade,
Eloquent stillness
In thicket and glade ;
Whispering breezes,
Fragrance oppressed ;
Lingering twilight
Soothing to rest.

What may the summer bring ?
Freshness and calm
To the care-worn and troubled,
Beauty and balm.
O toil-weary spirit,
Rest thee anew,
For the heat of the world-race
Summer hath dew !

What will the summer bring ?
Sultry noon hours,
Lurid horizons,
Frowning cloud-towers !
Loud-crashing thunders,
Tempest and hail,
Death-bearing lightnings,
It brings without fail.

What may the summer bring ?
Dimness and woe,
Blackness of sorrow
Its bright days may know ;
Flowers may be wormwood,
Verdure a pall,
The shadow of death
On the fairest may fall.

Is it not ever so ?
Where shall we find
Light that may cast
No shadow behind ?
Calm that no tempest
May darkly await?
Joy that no sorrow
May swiftly abate ?

Will the story of summer
Be written in light,
Or traced in the darkness
Of storm-cloud and night ?
We know not — we would not know
Why should we quail ?
Summer, we welcome thee!
Summer, all hail !