JUNE.
(IN CALIFORNIA.)

Oh June! thou comest once again

With bales of hay and sheaves of grain,

That make the farmer's heart rejoice,

And anxious herds lift up their voice.

I hear thy promise, sunny maid,

Sound in the reapers' ringing blade.

And in the laden harvest wain

That rumbles through the stubble plain.

Ye tell a tale of bearded stacks.