Page:Poems by Frances Fuller Victor.djvu/82

 Where the countless chimneys crowd the view,

Seeking with a wistful look and weary

Through the smoke, a glimpse of heaven's blue.

Sighing "'Tis June; I see the pleasant meadows

'Round my home lie peaceful in the sun;

Fleecy clouds flit overhead, and shadows

Chase the wind-blown dimples as they run

Down the ripening hay-fields, and the clover

Nods its honied blossoms in the breeze;

Sun-steeped sweetnesses exhale, and over

Cups of nectar drone the laden bees.

Down the lane the locust trees are shining,

White with scented plumes, too sickly sweet,

Dainty eglantine, the fences twining,

Sheds its fragrance to the quiet street;

In the elms that meet above our dwelling

Orioles swing, singing to their young—

Happy birds, whose pretty throats are swelling

With the joy of their home-coming song.

List! I hear the children's voices singing

Roundelays, as they bring home the kine,

Sweet-breathed heifers round whose necks are clinging

Garlands of some flowering wayside vine;

Hear my mother, as they laugh and linger, 74