Summer's end

When summer's end is nighing
And skies at evening cloud,
I muse on change and fortune
And all the feats I vowed
When I was young and proud.

From hill and cloud and heaven
The hues of evening died;
Night welled through lane and hollow
And I hushed the countryside,
But I had youth and pride.

The year might age, and cloudy
The lessening day might close,
But air of other summers
Breathed from beyond the snows,
And I had hope of those.

So here's an end of roaming
On eves when autumn nighs;
The ear too fondly listens 
For summer's parting sighs,
And then the heart replies.

from "When Summer's End is Nighing" ... A. E. Housman