When June comes dancing o'er the death of May, With scarlet roses tinting her green breast, And mating thrushes ushering in her day, And Earth on tiptoe for her golden guest, I always see the evening when we met- The first of June baptized in tender rain- And walked home through the wide streets, gleaming wet, Arms locked, our warm flesh pulsing with love's pain. I always see the cheerful little room, And in the corner, fresh and white, the bed, Sweet scented with a delicate perfume, Wherein for one night only we were wed; Where in the starlit stillness we lay mute, And heard the whispering showers all night long, And your brown burning body was a lute Whereon my passion played his fevered song. When June comes dancing o'er the death of May, With scarlet roses staining her fair feet, My soul takes leave of me to sing all day A love so fugitive and so complete. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO SHAKESPEARE by DAVID HARTLEY COLERIDGE WRITTEN ON A WALL AT WOODSTOCK by ELIZABETH I PICTURES FROM APPLEDORE: 5 by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL PASA THALASSA THALASSA by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON PROSOPOPOIA, OR MOTHER HUBBERDS TALE by EDMUND SPENSER HE GIVES HIS BELOVED CERTAIN RHYMES by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE LAST MAN: RECOGNITION by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES RIDING HORSE TO CULTIVATE IN VERMONT by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY LINES, IMPROMPTU, TO Q SCULL, ON ITS IMMEDIATELY ABSORBING SOME WINE by JOHN CHALK CLARIS |