A Summer Day

by Frances Fuller Victor

Fade not, sweet day!

Another hour like this—

So full of tranquil bliss—

May never come my way,

I walk in paths so shadowed and so cold:

But stay thou, darling hour,

Nor stint thy gracious power

To smile away the clouds that me enfold:

Oh stay! when thou art gone,

I shall be lost and lone.

Lost, lone, and sad;

And troubled more and more,

By the dark ways, and sore,

In which my feet are led;—

Alas, my heart, it was not always so!

Therefore, O happy day,

Haste not to fade away,

Nor let pale night chill all thy tender glow—

Thy rosy mists, that steep

The violet hills in sleep—

Thy airs of gold,

That over all the plain,

And fields of ripened grain,

A shimmering glory hold,—

The soft fatigue-dress of the drowsy sun;

Dreaming, as one who goes

To peace, and sweet repose,

After a battle hardly fought, and won:

Even so, my heart, to-day,

Dream all thy fears away.

O happy tears,

That everywhere I gaze,

Jewel the golden maze,

Flow on, till earth appears

Worthy the soft perfection of this scene:

Beat, heart, more soft and low,

Creep, hurrying blood, more slow:

Waste not one throb, to lose me the serene,

Deep, satisfying bliss

Of such an hour as this!

How like our dream,

Of that delightful rest

God keepeth for the blest,

This lovely peace doth seem;—

Perchance, my heart, He sent this gracious day,

That when the dark and cold,

Thy doubtful steps enfold,

Thou, may'st remember, and press on thy way,

Nor faint midway the gloom

That lies this side the tomb.

All, all in vain,

Sweet day, do I entreat

To stay thy wingéd feet;

The gloom, the cold, the pain,

Gather me back as thou dost pale and fade;

Yet in my heart I make

A chamber for thy sake,

And keep thy picture in warm color laid:—

Thy memory, happy day,

Thou can'st not take away.