Page:The Granite Monthly Volume 2.djvu/364

 34Q A SUMMER'S DAY.

��A SUMMER'S DAY.

��BY ABBA GOOLD WOOLSON.

Black bees on the clover-heads drowsily clinging', Where tall, feathered grasses and buttercups sway.

And all through the fields a white sprinkle of daisies. Open-eyed at the setting of day.

O, the heaps of sweet roses, sweet cinnamon roses.

In great crimson thickets that cover the wall ! And flocks of bright butterflies giddy to see them.

And a sunny blue sky over all.

Trailing boughs of the elms drooping over the hedges.

Where spiders their glimmering laces have spun ; And breezes that bend the light tops of the willows

And down through the meadow-grass run.

Silver-brown little birds sitting close in the branches, And yellow wings flashing from hillock to tree.

And wide-wheeling swallows that dip to the marshes. . And bobolinks crazy with glee ; —

So crazy, they soar through the glow of the sunset And warble their merriest notes as they fly,

Nor heed how the moths hover low in the hollows And the dew gathers soft in the sky.

Then a round beaming moon o'er tbe blossomed hill coming, Making paler the fields and the shadows more deep ;

And through the. wide meadows a murmurous chirping Of insects too happy to sleep.

Enchanted I sit on the bank by the willow And hum the last snatch of a rollicking tune;

And since all this loveliness cannot be heaven. f know in my heart it is June.

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