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JUNE. 



When noon is in the flaming sky 



Seek we some shadowy, silent wood ; 

 Recline upon a mossy knoll, 

 Cast care aside, and yield the soul 

 To that luxurious quietude. 



Above, waves wide the linden tree, 



With humming-bees the air is thrilled, 

 And through the sleeping hush is heard 

 The sudden voice of the woodland bird, 

 Like sound with which a dream is filled. 



Oh pleasant land of idlesse ! 



Jollity bides not 'neath the trees, 

 But thought, that roams from folly free, 

 Through the pure world of poetry, 



Puts on her strength in scenes like these ! 



And sweet it is by lonely meres 

 To sit, with heart and soul awake, 



Where water-lilies lie afloat, 



Each anchored like a fairy boat 

 Amid some fabled elfin lake : 



