Youth And June.
By Jean Blewett
I was your lover long ago, sweet June,
Ere life grew hard; I am your lover still,
And follow gladly to the wondrous tune
You pipe on golden reeds to vale and hill.
I am your lover still - to me you seem
To hold the fragrance of the joys long dead -
The brightness and the beauty of the dream
We dreamed in youth - to hold the tears we shed,
The laughter of our lips - the faith that lies
Back in that season dear to every heart,
Life's springtime, when God's earth and God's blue skies
Are, measured by our glance, not far apart.