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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 resume
The old-old sophistries of June-
A blue and gold mistake.

Oh fraud that cannot cheat the Bee-
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief.

Till ranks of seeds their witness bear-
And softly thro' 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-
They consecrated bread to take
And thine immortal wine!