Summer-Like

Summer-like for an instant the autumn sun bursts out, And the light through the turning elms is green and clear; It slants down the path and ragged marigolds glow Fiery again, last flames of the dying year. A blue-tit darts with a flash of wings, to feed Where the coconut hangs on the pear tree over the well; He digs at the meat like a tiny pickaxe tapping With his needle-sharp beak as he clings to the swinging shell. Then he runs up the trunk, sure-footed and sleek like a mouse, And perches to sun himself; all his body and brain Exult in the sudden sunlight, gladly believing That the cold is over and summer is here again. But I see the umber clouds that drive for the sun, And a sorrow no argument ever can make away Goes through my heart as I think of the nearing winter, And the transient light that gleams like the ghost of May; And the bird unaware, blessing the summer eternal, Joyfully labouring, proud in his strength, gay-plumed, Unaware of the hawk and the snow and the frost-bound nights, And of his death foredoomed.