Poems (Van Rensselaer)/June
For works with similar titles, see June.
JUNE
Spring is my mother, summer is my sire,
(So sayeth June).
A vernal breath, a heart of hot desire;
A dawn of cooling mist, a lucent noon
Of azure fire;
The latest violet, the earliest rose,
The lilies blooming and no lily dead,
A clearest light that deepest shadow throws,
Each leaf now open and no leaf yet shed—
By these ye know me, and the morning choir
That singeth May is past, July comes soon.
Spring is my mother, summer is my sire,
(So sayeth June).
(So sayeth June).
A vernal breath, a heart of hot desire;
A dawn of cooling mist, a lucent noon
Of azure fire;
The latest violet, the earliest rose,
The lilies blooming and no lily dead,
A clearest light that deepest shadow throws,
Each leaf now open and no leaf yet shed—
By these ye know me, and the morning choir
That singeth May is past, July comes soon.
Spring is my mother, summer is my sire,
(So sayeth June).