/0/6730/coverbig.jpg?v=70345e237daebf997af2d4fc6ce77348)
There came a day at summer's full
Entirely for me;
I thought that such were for the saints,
Where revelations be.
The sun, as common, went abroad,
The flowers, accustomed, blew,
As if no soul the solstice passed
That maketh all things new.
The time was scarce profaned by speech;
The symbol of a word
Was needless, as at
COPYRIGHT(©) 2022