Recited by Basil Bucolic. 1. Indian Summer These are the days when Birds come back A very few—a Bird or two To take a backward look These are the days when skies resume The old—old sophistries of June A blue and gold mistake Oh fraud that cannot cheat the Bee Almost thy plausibility Induces my belief Till ranks of seeds their witness bear And softly thro' the altered air Hurries a timid leaf Oh Sacrament of summer days Oh Last Communion in the Haze Permit a child to join Thy sacred emblems to partake They consecrated bread to take And thine immortal wine! 2. I'm nobody! Who are you? Are you nobody, too? Then there's a pair of us -- don't tell! They'd banish -- you know! How dreary to be somebody! How public like a frog To tell one's name the livelong day To an admiring bog! 3. This is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me,- The simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty Her message is committed To hands I cannot see; For love of her, sweet countrymen, Judge tenderly of me! 4. Th
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