OH! sweet and soft,
Returning oft,
As oft they pass benignly,
The warm June breezes come and go,
Through golden rounds of murmurous flow,
At length to sigh,
Wax faint and die,
Far down the panting primrose sky,
Divinely!
Though soft and low
These breezes blow,
Their voice is passion's wholly;
And ah! our hearts go forth to meet
The burden of their music sweet,
Ere yet it sighs,
Faints, falters, dies,
Down the rich path of sunset skies--
Half glad, half melancholy!
Bend, bend thine ear!
Oh! hark and hear
What vows each blithe new-comer,
Each warm June breeze that comes and goes,
Is whispering to the royal rose,
And star-pale lily, trembling nigh,
Ere yet in subtlest harmony
Its murmurs die,
Wax faint and die,
On thy flushed bosom, passionate sky,
Of youthful summer!
