As Imperceptibly As Grief The Summer Lapsed Away, -- Too Imperceptible, At Last, To Seem Like Perfidy. A Quietness Distilled, As Twilight Long Begun, Or Nature, Spending With Herself Sequestered Afternoon. The Dusk Drew Earlier In, The Morning Foreign Shone, -- A Courteous, Yet Harrowing Grace, As Guest Who Would Be Gone. And Thus, Without A Wing, Or Service Of A Keel, Our Summer Made Her Light Escape Into The Beautiful.