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Classic poem

It will be Summer -- eventually.

by Emily Dickinson

It will be Summer -- eventually.

Ladies -- with parasols --

Sauntering Gentlemen -- with Canes --

And little Girls -- with Dolls --

Will tint the pallid landscape --

As 'twere a bright Bouquet --

Thro' drifted deep, in Parian --

The Village lies -- today --

The Lilacs -- bending many a year --

Will sway with purple load --

The Bees -- will not despise the tune --

Their Forefathers -- have hummed --

The Wild Rose -- redden in the Bog --

The Aster -- on the Hill

Her everlasting fashion -- set --

And Covenant Gentians -- frill --

Till Summer folds her miracle --

As Women -- do -- their Gown --

Of Priests -- adjust the Symbols --

When Sacrament -- is done --

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Public domain/Source

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