~ JUNE ~

And what is so rare as a day in June?

Then, if ever, come perfect days;

Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune.

And over it softly her warm ear lays;

Whether we look or whether we listen.

We hear life murmur or see it glisten;

Every clod feels a stir of might.

An instinct within it that reaches and towers,

And, groping blindly above it for light.

Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers.