Queenly month of indolent repose! <br />I drink thy breath in sips of rare perfume, <br />As in thy downy lap of clover-bloom <br />I nestle like a drowsy child and doze <br />The lazy hours away. The zephyr throws <br />The shifting shuttle of the Summer's loom <br />And weaves a damask-work of gleam and gloom <br />Before thy listless feet. The lily blows <br />A bugle-call of fragrance o'er the glade; <br />And, wheeling into ranks, with plume and spear, <br />Thy harvest-armies gather on parade; <br />While, faint and far away, yet pure and clear, <br />A voice calls out of alien lands of shade:-- <br />All hail the Peerless Goddess of the Year!<br /><br />James Whitcomb Riley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/june-21/
