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C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Emily Dickinson (1830–1886)

Indian Summer

THESE are the days when birds come back,—

A very few, a bird or two,—

To take a backward look.

These are the days when skies put on

The old, old sophistries of June,—

A blue-and-gold mistake.

Oh! fraud that almost cheats the bee,

Almost thy plausibility

Induces my belief;

Till ranks of seeds their witness bear,

And softly through the altered air

Hurries a timid leaf!

Oh, sacrament of summer days!

Oh, last communion in the haze!

Permit a child to join—

Thy sacred emblems to partake,

Thy consecrated bread to break,

Taste thine immortal wine.