June In The Sky

Slow through the light and silent air, Up climbs the smoke on its spiral stair-- The visible flight of some mortal's prayer; The trees are in bloom with the flowers of frost, But never a feathery leaf is lost;

The spring, descending, is caught and bound Ere its silver feet can touch the ground; So still is the air that lies, this morn, Over the snow-cold fields forlorn, 'Tis as though Italy's heaven smiled In the face of some bleak Norwegian wild; And the heart in me sings--I know not why-- 'Tis winter on earth, but June in the sky!

June in the sky! Ah, now I can see The souls of roses about to be, In gardens of heaven beckoning me, Roses red-lipped, and roses pale, Fanned by the tremulous ether gale! Some of them climbing a window-ledge, Some of them peering from wayside hedge, As yonder, adrift on the aery stream, Love drives his plumed and filleted team; The Angel of Summer aloft I see, And the souls of roses about to be! And the heart in me sings--the heart knows why-- 'Tis winter on earth, but June in the sky.