Alfred H. Miles, ed. The Sacred Poets of the Nineteenth Century. 1907.
By Sonnets. I. Summer Is Come. 1. “Summer is come”Josiah Conder (1789–1855)
From “Summer in Four Sonnets”
S
And lordly brow, whence, in his angry mood,
Flash the blue lightnings: he is come to claim
His bride, the gentle Spring, whom late he woo’d
With softest airs. See how his fervid breath
Has call’d the roses up on her chaste cheek!
And now to him the sceptre she with meek
And tender smile resigns. Her woodland wreath
Is faded, but the garden’s gay parterre
Is rich with gorgeous hues; and glorious things
Haunt the cool stream, and flutter in the air,
Resplendent forms: the flowers have taken wings.
They do not die—there’s nothing in creation
That dies; succession all and wondrous transmigration.