June Memories. The leaves drift down in forest ways ; The wind moans with a voice of pain ; But through the dim September days, Like chords of some sweet haunting tune, The memories of a happy June Come back to me again— A June for evermore that lies, A pearl of purest, rarest bliss, Shrined in delicious memories : Sweet words and sweeter silence blent With dewy twilights, and the scent Of thick-flowered clematis ; Long cloudless morning hours that pass Under oak-shadows cool and dark ; The drone of insects in the grass, Through the hot noon-day hushed and still, Pierced only by the sudden trill Of one up-soaring lark ; The plash of oars at eventide ; The low clear rippling of the stream Against the boat. Faint breezes glide With lisping rustle in the reeds, And slowly from the bank recedes The sunset’s violet gleam— Lingering in mossy lanes to hear The nightingale’s first liquid notes Pour rich and full. From meadows near, Mown newly, fragrant breaths arise ; The moon across the tranquil skies A globe of silver floats ; And all through the long summer days My heart thrills to the fervent tones Of one loved voice ; a tender gaze Follows me ever. Strangely bright Life lies beneath love’s mystic light.— But now the wild wind moans : From their dead stalks the flowers are gone, The leaves are swept by autumn rain ; I watch in silence and alone ; And by the wood-fire’s reddening blaze, The memories of the sweet June days Come back to me again.