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"CHARLES DICKENS IS DEAD."
JUNE 9TH.
I.
A day in June! With sunshine sweet
Our English air was filled that day;
Around, the yet green unripe wheat
In plenteous vernal furrows lay.
Our English air was filled that day;
Around, the yet green unripe wheat
In plenteous vernal furrows lay.
II.
The apples hung upon the boughs—
Its sheath no filbert yet had burst;
Unmown the lawns, but in the house
Our noblest fruit was plucked the first.
Its sheath no filbert yet had burst;
Unmown the lawns, but in the house
Our noblest fruit was plucked the first.
III.
Our crowning sheaf, so full, so fair,
Which, slowly mellowing, stately stood,
Which, slowly mellowing, stately stood,
