JUNE. 
459 
But prisoned here with flat brick walls, 
I sit alone and sigh; 
My only glimpse of Summer near, 
A strip of cloudy sky. 
gtmt 
Mary Noel Meigt 
T AUGHINGLY thou comest, 
Rosy June, 
With thy light and tripping feet, 
And thy garlands fresh and sweet, 
And thy waters all in tune ; 
With thy gifts of buds and bells, 
For the uplands and the dells, 
With the wild-bird and the bee 
On the blossom or 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! 
