Collage Artwork

June by Wilson MacDonald

The world is white with cherry-trees,

a holy light on faery seas;

my garden’s full of merry bees

and sweet with robin-rune

My cheek is washed by fragrant sighs,

and roses stain my vagrant eyes

as I go wandering paradise

in June, in lovely June.

The day’s astir with musk and myrrh,

and night’s a purr of gossamer.

I cannot see for blossom-blur

the silver-riding moon.

Strawberry rugs beneath me spread,

and apple-bloom is overhead –

a canopy of white and red,

in June, in gentle June.

The lilacs speak their scented words,

the orioles are demented birds;

the cattle, in tree-tented herds,

lie, shadow cool, at noon.

The grass is lush on field and lawn,

and larks, that pealed the flush of dawn,

to higher chancels now have gone

to tell the joy of June.

The hands of peace and love are here,

and bring surcease from woe and fear.

The cooing breeze and dove are here

and they together croon.

A thousand weddings rouse the dells

with song of Canterbury-bells.

The meadows throng with nectar-wells

to quench the thirst of June.

When June is over I shall flee –

as drunk a rover as a bee

who sips the clover’s ecstasy

and trips a rigadoon.

Nor shall December’s cold desires

wash out the embers of these fires

or make me unremember choirs

that sang for me in June.

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