June
O 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!
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"O queenly month of indolent repose!..."
James Whitcomb Riley's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "June"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...