4
A JUNE MEMORY.
And later Summers, fair and sweet,
With tropic-scented breath,
Have nestled in the arms of Earth
And sung themselves to death;
But all have lacked the glowing warmth,
The sensitive perfume,
That filled the air and thrilled my soul
One eve in that dead June.
With tropic-scented breath,
Have nestled in the arms of Earth
And sung themselves to death;
But all have lacked the glowing warmth,
The sensitive perfume,
That filled the air and thrilled my soul
One eve in that dead June.
