"A Green Pride"

A green pride of green leaves Was all about that summer place, While the hour of the sheaves Waited, over the hill

Whose pretence of being far, Far in time, far in space, Lulled and held summer still. Still, the flower was the flower,

Not one petal falling. Motion left to the air, To the paper-thin veer Of the butterfly's going.

A green pride of green leaves Over arbor, lawn, bower, And the hour of the sheaves, Even so, coming closer.