The Summer Quickens All

The summer quickens all,
Scatters its promises
To you and me no less,
Though neither can compel

The wish to last the year,
The longest look to live,
The urgent word survive
The movement of the air.

But, loving now, let none
Think of divided days
When we shall choose from ways,
All of them evil, one;

Look on with stricter brows
The sacked and burning town,
The ice-sheet moving down,
The fall of an old house.