Classic Poem

The shades may show the time of day,
And flowers how summer wanes away.

Where thyme on turfy banks may grow,
Or mallows by the laneside ledge,
About the blue-barr'd gate, may show
Their grey-blue heads beside the hedge,
Or where the poppy's scarlet crown
May nod by clover, dusky red,
Or where the field is ruddy brown,
By brooks with shallow-water'd bed,

The shades may show the time of day,
And flowers how summer wanes away.

Or, where the light of dying day
May softly shine against the wall,
Below the sloping thatch, brown-grey,
Or over pale-green grass, may fall,
Or where, in fields that heat burns dry,
May show the thistle's purple studs,
Or beds of dandelions ply
Their stems with yellow fringed buds,

There shades may show the time of day,
And flowers how summer wanes away.