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372       MARY N. M'DONALD.

And thy waters all in tune;
With thy gift of buds and bells,
For the uplands and the dells,
With the wild-bird and the bee,
On the blossom of the tree,
And my heart leaps forth to meet thee,
With a joyous thrill to greet thee
Rosy June,
And I love the flashing ray
Of the rivulets at play,
As they sparkle into day,
Rosy June!

Most lovely do I call thee,
Laughing June!
For thy skies are bright and blue,
As a sapphire's brilliant hue,
And the heats of Summer noon,
Made cooler by thy breath—–
O'er the clover-scented heath,
Which the scythe must sweep so soon:
And thou fan'st the fever'd cheek
With thy softest gales of balm,
Till the pulse so low and weak,
Beateth stronger and more calm.
Kind physician, thou dost lend
Like a tried and faithful friend,
To the suffering and the weary, every blessing thou canst bring
By the sick man's couch of pain,
Like an angel, once again
Thou hast shed a gift of healing, from the perfume-laden wing,
And the student's listless ear,
As a dreamy sound and dear,
Hath caught a pleasant murmur of the insect's busy hum,
Where arching branches meet
O'er the turf beneath his feet,


MARY N. M'DONALD.       373

And a thousand Summer fancies, with the melody have come;
And he turneth from the page
Of the prophet of the sage,
And forgetteth all the wisdom of his books;
For his heart is roving free
With the butterfly and bee,
And chimeth with the music of the brooks,
Singing still their merry tune,
In the flashing light of noon,
One chord of thy sweet lyre, laughing June!

I have heart-aches many a one,
Rosy June!
And I sometimes long to fly
To a world of love and light,
Where the flowerets never die,
Nor the day gives place to night;
Where the weariness and pain
Of this mortal life are o'er,
And we fondly clasp again
All the loved ones gone before.
And I think, to lay my head
On some green and shelter'd bed,
Where, at dawning or at noon,
Come the birds with liquid note
In each tender warbling throat,
Or the breeze, with mournful tune,
To sigh above my grave—–
Would be all that I should crave
Rosy June!

But when thou art o'er the earth,
With thy blue and tranquil skies,
And thy gushing melodies,
And thy many tones of mirth—–

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Transcription Notes:
---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-06-29 15:39:18 ---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-06-29 16:49:27