---

James Whitcomb Riley - June
Work rating: Low

Queenly month of indolent repose!
    I drink thy breath in sips of rare perfume,
    As in thy downy lap of clover-bloom
I nestle like a drowsy child and doze
The lazy hours away.  The zephyr throws
    The shifting shuttle of the Summer`s loom
    And weaves a damask-work of gleam and gloom
Before thy listless feet.  The lily blows
A bugle-call of fragrance o`er the glade;
    And, wheeling into ranks, with plume and spear,
Thy harvest-armies gather on parade;
    While, faint and far away, yet pure and clear,
A voice calls out of alien lands of shade:--
    All hail the Peerless Goddess of the Year!
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.