The Summer of Peace

Summer comes to the stricken earth. Lays clement fingers of bud and leaf On broken hedge and field's brown dearth And the bare hills' rocky grief; Brings her comfort of May and June, Pours on red wounds the blackbird's tune, Bids with her gallant, imperious green Anger and vengeance and fevered hate Abate.

Deep in my heart is a faded pain None knows: Summer, put there a rose Red as its one-time scar! Bid it flame to a grief again, Bid it sing like the morning star — Shining song of a fresh young woe That none shall know — Spread there the blossoms of splendid regret, I do not want to forget!