Here you will find the Poem Tell Summer That I Died of poet John Shaw Neilson
When he was old and thin And knew not night or day He would sit up to say Something of the fire within. How woefully his chin Moved so slowly as he tried Some lusty word to say: Tell Summer that I died. When gladness sweeps the land, And to the white sky Cool butterflies go by, And sheep in shadow stand; When Love, the old command, Turns every hate aside, In the unstinted days Tell Summer that I died.
