’Tis a truth that earnest students,
With books and nature who commune,
Are in thought and feeling quickened
By the skies and breath of June.
While in boyhood, what could match it?
Schoolmates call so opportune;
“Come with me and range the forest—
Recreate, this day of June.”
Sister-schoolmates, gathering posies,
Stop to hear the red-breast’s tune,
And laugh at pretty squirrels running
Up the trees, in leafy June.
After-life, for prizes striving,
The student toils for lengthened rune—
Spirit (so success) is wafted
To him by the breath of June.
Month of months—let’s sing its praises!
Museum-readers, join the tune—
The freshest leaves, the brightest flowers,
All are thine, sweet month of June.