There is a June when Corn is cut

930 There is a June when Corn is cut And Roses in the Seed— A Summer briefer than the first But tenderer indeed As should a Face supposed the Grave's Emerge a single Noon In the Vermilion that it wore Affect us, and return— Two Seasons, it is said, exist— The Summer of the Just, And this of Ours, diversified With Prospect, and with Frost— May not our Second with its First So infinite compare That We but recollect the one The other to prefer?