Summer Lights

No more the tulips hold their torches up,
And chestnuts silver candelabra bear.
The spring, dethroned, has left her festive cup
Of honey-dew, and other blossoms flare
To light another feast with tinted glare.
Summer has ta'en the sceptre, and the trees,
In low obeisance bow their weight of green;
The locusts bloom with swarms of snowy bees
That make the fragrant branches downward lean;
Each snow-ball bush with full-blown moons is hung,
And all around, like red suns setting low,
Large peonies shed a burning crimson glow,
While, worlds of foliage on the shoulders swung
Of Atlantean trunks, the orchards darkly grow.