Volume 4 — ANNIVERSARY.
Reading edition
The brooding July noon, the still, deep heats Upon the full-leaved woods and flowering maize, The first wheat harvest, and the torrid blaze Which on the sweating reapers fiercely beats And drives each songster to its own retreats,— Much less the stately lily of the field, Gorgeous in scarlet, whose large anthers yield The honey-bee meet prison for its sweets, A flame amid the meadow-land's rich green— With the revolving year is never seen But o'er the sunny landscape creeps a shade Of solemn recollection. Lilies! lean Your brilliant coronals where once was laid A boy's brow grand in death, and "Rest in peace" be said.
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