Wind-seeking, bearing careless o’er the crest
Of summer waves the whiteness of its breast—
A moment’s dazzling vision on our sight:
Earth, air, and sea, with mirth unsullied filled,
With happy sunshine from June’s roses flushed.
We hold our rose-leaves all to-day uncrushed,
Our cup of spring-time joyousness unspilled.
But spring-time passes, rosy petals all
Drop down and mingle with earth’s earlier dead,
Though faithful sweet-bay still breathes balm o’erhead,