Where the Spirit Shall Bask in the Summer of Heaven

'Tis the Last Day of Summer

'Tis the last day of Summer,
    Now fading away,
As behind yon blue mountain,
    The sun hides its ray;
And the low breeze is sighing,
    So chilly and drear,
That, methinks, the wood whispers,
    Stern Autumn is near!

'Tis the last day of Summer,
    And sad is the smile,
That now lights up the gloom,
    Where it lingers awhile;
Whilst the cloud that is wreathing,
    So gaily the west,
But reveals by its brightness,
    The tempest's dark crest.

'Tis the last day of Summer,
    And fleet as its ray,
Hath departed, so fleetly,
    Doth life speed away!
But beyond this drear gloom,
    Is a resting place given,
Where the spirit shall bask,
    In the summer of Heaven.

T.J.S., 1836
Frederick County, Aug. 31st, 1836.