Indian Summer by Emily Dickinson Lyrics
130
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!
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!