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James Whitcomb Riley - A Wraith Of Summertime
Work rating: Low

In its color, shade and shine,
  `T was a summer warm as wine,
  With an effervescent flavoring of flowered bough and vine,
  And a fragrance and a taste
  Of ripe roses gone to waste,
  And a dreamy sense of sun- and moon- and star-light interlaced.

  `Twas a summer such as broods
  O`er enchanted solitudes,
  Where the hand of Fancy leads us through voluptuary moods,
  And with lavish love out-pours
  All the wealth of out-of-doors,
  And woos our feet o`er velvet paths and honeysuckle floors.

  `Twas a summertime long dead,--
  And its roses, white and red,
  And its reeds and water-lilies down along the river-bed,--
  O they all are ghostly things--
  For the ripple never sings,
  And the rocking lily never even rustles as it rings!
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