From the Door of Heaven

Now the tall tulip trees have lifted up Their green-gold chalices against the sun, And the white locusts from the door of Heaven Spill their honied fragrance on the air. Over the open fields the bobolinks Toss the gay music of their carillons Down to the pasture foot where bob-white calls, And through the meadow blows the purple flag. By many a wild trail in the wooded hills, And many a path along the foaming shore, With unforgotten rapture of old years And airs that lift the heart on ventures new, June is come back to her New England home To make of earth a paradise once more.