Page:Poems by Frances Fuller Victor.djvu/30

 Of my accacia trees,

And pour your music out upon

The perfume-laden breeze.

Come, songsters of the wood,

And put my heart in tune

To the flowers and the sun

Of this happy land of June.

Cry out, O brave, bright birds

That soar, and swoop and swing

Above the sapphire sea

In a wild wassailing;

Drop down and flick the foam,

As the arrow flies when sped;

Laugh at your startled prey;

And scream to your mates o'erhead;

Be drunken with the joy

Of the sparkling air and brine,

With the glory of the day,

Its shadows and its shine;

With the color and the warmth

Of this June-land by the sea,

That you whirl above in play,

And you scream unto in glee.

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