V

The day was a van-bird of summer: the robin still piped, but the blue, As a warm and dreamy palace with voices of larks ringing thro', Looked down as if wistfully eyeing the blossoms that fell from its lap: A day to sweeten the juices: a day to quicken the sap. All round the shadowy orchard sloped meadows in gold, and the dear Shy violets breathed their hearts out: the maiden breath of the year!