Verse > Anthologies > Higginson and Bigelow, eds. > American Sonnets
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Higginson and Bigelow, comps.  American Sonnets.  1891.
 
The Indian Summer
By Henry Theodore Tuckerman (1813–1871)
 
THE FEW sere leaves that to the branches cling,
  Fall not to-day, so light the zephyr’s breath;
O’er Autumn’s sleep now plays the breeze of Spring,
  Like love’s warm kiss upon the brow of death:
Serene the firmament, save where a haze        5
  Of dreamy softness floats upon the air,
Or a bright cloud of amber seems to gaze
  In wild surprise upon the meadows bare:
Summer revives, and, like a tender strain
  Borne on the night-breeze to the wandering ear,        10
With tender sighs melts Winter’s frosty chain,
  And smiles once more upon the dying year:
Thus when we deem Time’s frost has chilled the heart,
At Love’s sweet call its languid pulses start.
 
 
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