Summer for thee grant I may be
When summer days are flown!
Thy music still when whippoorwill
And oriole are done!

For thee to bloom, I ’ll skip the tomb
And sow my blossoms o’er!
Pray gather me, Anemone,
Thy flower forevermore!

~Emily Dickinson

Peak Emily. A lovely little love song for summer, in which the poet cannot resist inserting the inevitability of death. Happy reading!