I <br />Blue July, bright July, <br />Month of storms and gorgeous blue; <br />Violet lightnings o'er thy sky, <br />Heavy falls of drenching dew; <br />Summer crown! o'er glen and glade <br />Shrinking hyacinths in their shade; <br />I welcome thee with all thy pride, <br />I love thee like an Eastern bride. <br />Though all the singing days are done <br />As in those climes that clasp the sun; <br />Though the cuckoo in his throat <br />Leaves to the dove his last twin note; <br />Come to me with thy lustrous eye, <br />Golden-dawning oriently, <br />Come with all thy shining blooms, <br />Thy rich red rose and rolling glooms. <br />Though the cuckoo doth but sing 'cuk, cuk,' <br />And the dove alone doth coo; <br />Though the cushat spins her coo-r-roo, r-r-roo - <br />To the cuckoo's halting 'cuk.' <br /> <br /> <br />II <br />Sweet July, warm July! <br />Month when mosses near the stream, <br />Soft green mosses thick and shy, <br />Are a rapture and a dream. <br />Summer Queen! whose foot the fern <br />Fades beneath while chestnuts burn; <br />I welcome thee with thy fierce love, <br />Gloom below and gleam above. <br />Though all the forest trees hang dumb, <br />With dense leafiness o'ercome; <br />Though the nightingale and thrush, <br />Pipe not from the bough or bush; <br />Come to me with thy lustrous eye, <br />Azure-melting westerly, <br />The raptures of thy face unfold, <br />And welcome in thy robes of gold! <br />Tho' the nightingale broods-'sweet-chuck-sweet' - <br />And the ouzel flutes so chill, <br />Tho' the throstle gives but one shrilly trill <br />To the nightingale's 'sweet-sweet.'<br /><br />George Meredith<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/july-21/
