Indian Summer

by John Banister Tabb

Tis said, in death, upon the face
Of Age, a momentary trace
Of Infancy's returning grace
Forestalls decay;
And here, in Autumn's dusky reign,
A birth of blossom seems again
To flush the woodland's fading train
With dreams of May.    


Note: Today is the anniversary of the death of the American poet and Catholic priest John Banister Tabb.

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Words inspired by the garden are the sweetest, most beautiful words of all.
John Banister Tabb
John Banister Tabb

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