This is our summer—when the painted wilds,
Like pictures in a dream, enchant the sight.
The forest bursts in glory like a flame!
Its leaves are sparks, its mystic breath the haze
Which blends in purple incense with the air
The spirit of the woods has decked his home,
And put his wonders like a garment on,
To flash, and glow, and dull, and fade, and die.