Alabama, ipi3- 45 



JUNE. 



SWEET balmy June: the summer rests 

 On hill and dale so fair; 

 The leafage and the flowers wild 

 • Are scatter'd everywhere. 



The little airs that softly beat 



Against the petal's fold, 

 A flow'ry fragrance carry far, 



O'er sea, o'er field and wold. 



The breezes stir among the trees, 



That whisper softly sweet; 

 Two lovers strolling down the land 



These airy greetings meet. 



By day the sunshine on the grass 



Lies, seas of yellow light; 

 The timid stars far in the dome 



Bedeck the stilly night. 



The droning bees, the humming birds, 

 Are flitting round the rose ; 

 To them it yields its nectar sweet, 

 As on the stem it glows. 



The brooklet wanders thro' the mead, 



Beneath the grasses fair; 

 The clouds drop benedictions down, 



And man is freed from care. 



And when I seek the woodland dells, 



Soft-flecked by yellow beams, 

 Methinks the sweetest month of all 



Is June, the Month of Dreams. 



— Frank Monroe Beverly. 



