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JUNE NO hope, no change! The clouds have shut us in, | |
| And through the cloud the sullen Sun strikes down | |
| Full on the bosom of the tortured Town, | |
| Till Night falls heavy as remembered sin | |
| That will not suffer sleep or thought of ease, | 5 |
| And, hour on hour, the dry-eyed Moon in spite | |
| Glares through the haze and mocks with watery light | |
| The torment of the uncomplaining trees. | |
| Far off, the Thunder bellows her despair | |
| To echoing Earth, thrice parched. The lightnings fly | 10 |
| In vain. No help the heaped-up clouds afford, | |
| But wearier weight of burdened, burning air. | |
| What truce with Dawn? Look, from the aching sky, | |
| Day stalks, a tyrant with a flaming sword! | |
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SEPTEMBER AT dawn there was a murmur in the trees, | 15 |
| A ripple on the tank, and in the air | |
| Presage of coming coolness—everywhere | |
| A voice of prophecy upon the breeze. | |
| Up leapt the Sun and smote the dust to gold, | |
| And strove to patch anew the heedless land, | 20 |
| All impotently, as a King grown old | |
| Wars for the Empire crumbling ’neath his hand. | |
| One after one the lotos-petals fell, | |
| Beneath the onslaught of the rebel year, | |
| In mutiny against a furious sky; | 25 |
| And far-off Winter whispered:—“It is well! | |
| “Hot Summer dies. Behold your help is near, | |
| “For when men’s need is sorest, then come I.” | |
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