September On Cape Ann

The partridge-berry flecks with flame the way That leads to ferny hollows where the bee Drones on the aster. Far away the sea Points its deep sapphire with a gleam of grey. Here from this height where, clustered sweet, the bay Clumps a green couch, the haw and barberry Beading her hair, sad Summer, seemingly, Has fallen asleep, unmindful of the day. The chipmunk barks upon the old stone wall; And in the shadows, like a shadow, stirs The woodchuck where the boneset's blossom creams. Was that a phoebe with its pensive call? A sighing wind that shook the drowsy firs? Or only Summer waking from her dreams?