The South Transept: The Epistle and Gospel III

The natural Year, swift shadow of the sun,
Wakes from the earth a chequer'd tapestry,
To greet his footsteps as he passes on,
Carpets of snow — sweet violets — lilies high —
Then fields of waving gold — then varied dye
Of Autumn ; but the snow, and violets sweet,
Lilies, and Autumn's wild variety,
And waving corn, fast as the sunbeams fleet, —
They bow their head and die beneath his hurrying feet.