Indian Summer
by John Banister Tabb
'Tis said, in death, upon the face
Of Age, a momentary trace
Of Infancy's returning grace
Forestalls decay;
And here, in Autumn's dusky reign,
A birth of blossom seems again
To flush the woodland's fading train
With dreams of May.
Source:
PoemsCopyright 1894
John Lane, LondonCopeland and Day, Boston