
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. 
Sune, 
Mary Noel Meigs. 
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, 
hi l 
Laughing June! 






