J UNE in the grass!
Daisies and buttercups, lo, they surpass
Coined gold of kings; and for greendom, the rose,
Bloom of the month, see how stately she goes;
Blow, winds, and waft me the breathings of flowers:
June's in her bowers.
June overhead!
All the birds know it, for swift they have sped
Northward, and now they are singing like mad;
June is full-tide for them, June makes them glad.
Hark, the bright choruses greeting the day—
Sorrow, away!
June in the heart!
Dormant dim dreamings awake and upstart,
Blood courses quicker, some sprite in my feet
Makes rhythm of motion, makes wayfaring sweet;
So, outward or inward, the meaning is clear;
Summer is here.