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Summer Days (Poem)

Summer days are swiftly passing,
Autumn time is drawing near;
See the lovely colors changing,
And the nut-brown tints appear.

Soon the swallows will have left us
For a warmer, brighter clime;
There in sunnier lands they'll linger
Through our frosty winter time.

Soon the harvest will be gathered
Into barns for winter store,
And the fields all ploughed and harrowed,
Ready for the seed once more.

Thus our lives are swiftly passing,
And our harvest time draws near;
Are we bringing sheaves? or are we
Bringing leaves all dried and sear?

Greatness and goodness are not means, but ends.
—S. T. Coleridge
Verily, I say unto you: Not in the heavens, not in the midst of the sea, not if thou hidest thyself away in the clefts of the mountains, wilt thou find a place where thou canst escape the fruit of thy evil actions.
At the same time thou art sure to receive the blessings of thy good actions.
—Buddha

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Christie Campbell

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