To Summer
Realm of new gold, and blue-hot raging sun,
Yellow kept kingdom of the spilling fields;
Blind under burning filaments that run
Like blood from the bursting heads of corn,
As sultry woods dapple with bluebell peals
And all the summer fruits of swallows song;
Are shaded by kestrels, glaring overhead
And jealous ponds are broken by the stares;
Of swollen mayflies, peering from the dead.
Bright Hyperion, who had never seen,
The dark side of the earth give birth to thoughts
That were not vanquished by a fiery screen
Of sunrise through his airy crystal courts.
Who glowing like a distant neutron star,
Passed his hours with the lightest heart,
Of all the gods that trod an ancient path,
When fledgling then came rising Jupiter,
To fell the giant from his roaring part,
And cast him down onto an ashen hearth.
Look not upon the lion faced season
Or its brazen path for answers to life,
But take the moment to trace the horizon,
And float on the seconds flooded with light.
Drink of t
Penessence