** In the still dead heat of a drowsy day, 

 By sleeping lilies that lie astray 

 In the garden of grace," 



ARTHUR REED ROPES. 



JULY 



Come out, for the sky it is all of blue, 



The fields they are full of song ; 

 The gold sunbeams still are wet with dew, 



The morning hours stay not long. 

 We will taste the sweets of the morning light, 



By the stream where the blue flow'r blows, 

 For the world has forgotten the dark of night, 



The land with a radiance glows ! 



Is there ever a month like sweet July ? 

 Is there ever a day with so blue a sky ? 

 Grows there ever a rose with so fair a hue ?- 

 Come out, for the world wants only you ! 



I'll match your eyes with the flower of blue, 



That down by the river grows ; 

 I'll match your cheek with the tender hue, 



That lies on the open'd rose. 

 And our love shall be one as the earth and sky, 



And our hearts full of happy song ; 

 Come out, for the morning is passing by, 



Sweet July delays not long ! 



Is there ever a month like sweet July ? 

 Is there ever a day with so blue a sky ? 

 Grows there ever a rose with so fair a hue ?- 

 Come out, for the world wants only you ! 



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