Danske Dandridge (Данске Дэндридж)

Indian Summer

Yes, the sweet summer lingers still;
The hares loiter on the hill;
The year, a spendthrift growing old,
Is scattering his lavish gold
For a last pleasure.
The robins flock, but would not go;
We share the word with footsteps slow,
In sober leisure,
Or sit beneath the chestnut-tree,
Our hands in silent company.
Not yet, dear friend, we part, not yet;
Full soon the last warm sun will set;
The cricket cease to stir the grass;
The gold and amber fade away;
The scarlet from the landscape pass,
And all the sky be sodden gray;--
Too soon, alas, the frost must fall
And blight the asters on the hill,
The golden-rod, the gentians, all,
And we must feel the parting chill.
But oh, not yet, not yet we part:
The Summer strains us to her heart:
The world is all a golden smile,
And we may love a little while;
The Summer dies, and hearts forget,
And we must part, -- not yet, not yet.

1. The Phantom
2. Beneath the Pines
3. Wings
4. Lost at Sea
5. The Night Watch

Emily Dickinson (Эмили Дикинсон) Indian Summer ("These are the days when birds come back")

Тема стихотворения (Poem Theme): Indian Summer (Бабье лето)

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