Poems (Kimball)/Summer-time

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SUMMER-TIME.
SUMMER'S breath has kissed the lovely bloom   From the apple-trees: Out of flower-cups, dripping with perfume,    Sip the honey-bees.
Where the vines are strung with roses red    Dart the humming-birds; Winds, like lovers, in the boughs o'erhead    Whisper tender words.
Clover-crested are the waves of grass    Where the little feet Frolic, deep in coolness, as I pass    From the sunny street.
When at eve o'er field and fen and brake    Misty curtains fall, Fire-flies, in their meteor dances, make    Nightly carnival.
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