Indian Summer
The old grey year is near his term in sooth, And now with backward eye and soft-laid palm Awakens to a golden dream of youth, A second childhood lovely and most calm, And the smooth hour about his misty head An awning of enchanted splendour weaves, Of maples, amber, purple and rose-red, And droop-limbed elms down-dropping golden leaves. With still half-fallen lids he sits and dreams Far in a hollow of the sunlit wood, Lulled by the murmur of thin-threading streams, Nor sees the polar armies overflood The darkening barriers of the hills, nor hears The north-wind ringing with a thousand spears.
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"The old grey year is near his term in sooth,..."
Exploring the themes of classic, Archibald Lampman delivers a powerful performance in "Indian Summer"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...