 | The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley |  |
1092
WHEN JUNE IS HERE
When June is here—what art have we to singThe whiteness of the lilies 'midst the green
Of noon-tranced lawns? or flash of roses seen
Like redbirds' wings? or earliest ripening
Prince-harvest apples, where the cloyed bees cling
Round winy juices oozing down between
The peckings of the robin, while we lean
In under-grasses, lost in marveling;
Or the cool term of morning, and the stir
Of odorous breaths from wood and meadow walks;
The Bob-white's liquid yodel, and the whir
Of sudden flight; and, where the milkmaid talks
Across the bars, on tilted barley-stalks
The dewdrops' glint in webs of gossamer.
| The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley | |