Early is the evening, 
Reluctant the dawn;
Once there was summer;
Sudden it was gone.
It fell like a leaf,
Whirled downstream.
Was there ever summer,
Or only a dream?
Was ever a world
That was not November?
Once there was summer,
And this I remember,

Cornflowers and daisies,
Buttercups and clover,
Black-eyed Susans and Queen-Anne's lace,
A wide green meadow,
And bees booming over,
And a little laughing girl with the wind in her face.

Strident are the voices
And hard lights shine;
Feral are the faces;
Is one of them mine?
Something is lost now,
Tarnished the gleam;
Was there ever nobleness,
Or only a dream?
Yes, and it lingers,
Lost not yet;
Something remains
Till this I forget

Cornflowers and clover,
Buttercups and daisies,
Black-eyed Susans under blue and white skies
And the grass waist high
Where the red cow grazes,
And a little laughing girl with faith in her eyes.