These are the days when Birds come back
A very few a Bird or two
To take a backward look.
These are the days when skies resume
The old old sophistries of June
A blue and gold mistake.
Oh fraud that cannot cheat the Bee
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief.
Till ranks of seeds their witness bear
And softly thro’ the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf.
Oh Sacrament of summer days,
Oh Last Communion in the Haze
Permit a child to join.
Thy sacred emblems to partake
They consecrated bread to take
And thine immortal wine!