There is a June when corn is cut

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 Vermillion that it wore
Affect us, and return -

Two Seasons, it is said, exist -
The Summer of the Just,
And this of our's, diversified
With Prospect - and with Frost -

May not our Second with it's First
So infinite compare
That We but recollect the one
The other to prefer?