  Sing among the hollyhocks, "Summer, fare thee well!" Ring the drooping blossoms For a passing bell. Droop the sunflowers, heavy discs Totter to their fall. Up the valley creep the mists For a funeral pall. Lingering roses woefully In the cold expire. Heap the dead and dying For a funeral pyre. While the gale is sighing, While the wind makes moan, Sigh among the hollyhocks Of the summer flown. "SIGH AMONG THE HOLLYHOCKS OF THE SUMMER FLOWN." "SIGH AMONG THE HOLLYHOCKS OF THE SUMMER FLOWN." |
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