JUNE
April was in your making—youth of the year,
Wild-blooded, beautiful! And May with flowers
And showers agleam went into you, my dear.
But you are June. Deep shadows, silver dew,
Red roses, and the nightingale’s delight:
White moonlight the essential soul of you.
And sometimes as I watch you walk arrayed
In beauty of that month, a foolish fear
Comes, dear, into my heart: I am afraid
That you being one with shadow-bars and roses,
Birds and wild scents of June, with these will fly
And I be left alone when Summer closes
Her pageantry!