THE SUMMONS

Some day, when the golden glory
    Of June is over the earth,
And the birds are singing together
    In a wild, mad strain of mirth;
When the skies are as clear and cloudless
    As the skies of June can be,
I would like to have the summons
    Sent down from God to me.

Some glowing, golden morning
    In the heart of the summer time,
As I stand in the perfect vigour
    And strength of my youth's glad prime;
When my heart is light and happy,
    And the world seems bright to me,
I would like to drop from this earth life,
    As a green leaf drops from the tree.

I would not wait for the furrows---
    For the faded eyes and hair;
But pass out swift and sudden,
    Ere I grow heart-sick with care;
I would break some morn in my singing---
    Or fall in my springing walk
As a full-blown flower will sometimes
    Drop, all a-bloom, from the stalk.

I think the leaf would sooner
    Be the first to break away,
Than to hang alone in the orchard
    In the bleak November day.
And I think the fate of the flower
    That falls in the midst of bloom
Is sweeter than if it lingered
    To die in the autumn's gloom.

And so, in my youth's glad morning,
    While the summer walks abroad,
I would like to hear the summons,
    That must come, sometime, from God.
I would pass from the earth's perfection
    To the endless June above:
From the fullness of living and loving,
    To the noon of Immortal Love.

Poetical works of Ella Wheeler Wilcox. by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Edinburgh : W. P. Nimmo, Hay, & Mitchell, 1917.


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