Gleb Zavlanov

If Fall Shall Rob Fair Summer - Poem by Gleb Zavlanov

If Fall shall rob fair summer of her boon,

And steal the gloried rays of her gold sun,

And dreamy essence of her calming moon,

Whose beams across the Heaven’s bowers run,

And all her sweets, her candied charms and spells,

And all the finest beauty of her store,

Then days shall come, in which Cronus compels

Fall to make grander all that summer bore:

To make the sunshine doubly gold and bud

Much sweeter, golden blossoms, and then birth

Much fairer fruits, rich with sweet, temp’rate blood

And feed with triply fresher dew the earth,

And pave the roads with golden folds of wheat

And piled gourd, and hang the trees with leaves,

And spread with posy flame the glades where meet

The murm’ring brooks, and where the sunshine weaves

Its silk of light across the morning skies,

And all the flowered bowers with sweet breath.

Aye, even if the summer clime soon dies

The Fall shall wreathe a beauty of its death.

© 2014 Gleb Zavlanov

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Poem Submitted: Monday, March 24, 2014

Poem Edited: Tuesday, March 25, 2014

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