Summer Has Been Too Greatly Counted On
Willows are wallowing upon the lawn The cat is curled up on a canvas chair All the curtains of the house are drawn. The heat has breathed on us almost since dawn We lie in shade and sigh for cooler air Willows are wallowing upon the lawn.
The cat awakes and stretches, with a yawn The heat is almost more than he can bear All the curtains of the house are drawn.
Even the flowers are looking limp and wan The cat considers them with languid stare Willows are wallowing upon the lawn.
We see the empty chair; the cat is gone He's stretched out in the shadow over there All the curtains of the house are drawn.
Summer has been too greatly counted on: If winter came tomorrow, we wouldn't care Willows are wallowing upon the lawn All the curtains of the house are drawn.
