Two June Nights.

A red rose in my lady's hair, A white rose in her fingers, A wild bird singing low, somewhere, A song that pulses, lingers. The sound of dancing and of mirth, The fiddle's merry chiming, A smell of earth, of fresh, warm earth, And honeysuckle climbing; My lady near, yet far away— Ah, lonely June of yesterday! A big white night of velvet sky, And Milky Way a-gleaming, The fragrant blue smoke drifting by From camp-fire brightly beaming; The stillness of the Northland far— God's solitudes of splendor— My road a trail, my chart a star. Wind, 'mong the balsams slender, Sing low: O glad June of to-day, My lady's near, though far away!