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Augusta Davies Webster - A Summer Mood
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BUT wait. Let each by each the days pass by,
    One faded and one blown like summer flowers;
What need of hope, with summer in the sky?
    What of regret, with all fair morrows ours?
If yesterday be gone,No reck, `twas not alone,
    To-morrow will have just so sweet long hours.
But yet to-day is sweetest till `tis flown.

But wait. Let summer day be changed from day,
    Like following surges of the ebb and flow;
And flow brings breath of saltness and blithe spray,
    And ebb long music of seas plashing low. 
The waves, stolen out of reach
,Have no farewell for speech;
    Next tide will roll as swift, as rippling go.
And yet `tis now that`s best along the beach.

Ah wait. The while we linger our lives live,
    Our summer ripens purpose through our dreams;
Flower-petals fallen leave a seed to thrive,
    Spent tides heap treasures from the deep sea streams;
Now drifts by unaware,
And Afterwards is heir;
    To-morrow wins the wealth of yester gleams.
Yet `tis to-day that summer makes most fair.
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