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Louise Chandler Moulton (Луиза Чандлер Молтон)


A Summer's Growth


Fair was the flower which proffers now its fruit;
The bud began to swell 'neath Spring's soft dew,
And tenderly the winds of summer blew
To foster it; and great strong suns were mute,
As through its veins warm life began to shoot,
And it put on each day some beauty new.
And all the fairer, as I think, it grew,
Because the streams were tears about its root.

But now our fruit hangs well within our reach,
And this indeed is time for gathering.
It hath the bloom of summer-tinted peach,
Each charm it hath that any man could sing;
Yet we, who taste it, whisper each to each,
"Not sweet, but very bitter, is this thing!" 



Louise Chandler Moulton's other poems:
  1. The Last Good-by
  2. Love's Empty House
  3. Love Is Dead
  4. Hic Jacet
  5. After Death


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