St. Martin's Summer
AS swallows turning backwardWhen half-way o'er the sea,At one word's trumpet summonsThey came again to me -The hopes I had forgottenCame back again to me.
I know not which to credit,O lady of my heart!Your eyes that bade me linger,Your words that bade us part -I know not which to credit,My reason or my heart.
But be my hopes rewarded,Or be they but in vain,I have dreamed a golden vision,I have gathered in the grain -I have dreamed a golden vision,I have not lived in vain.
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