This page has been validated.
SHINE, SUN OF THE SUMMER.JUNE, 1864.
HINE, sun of the summer; bloom, roses of June! Bring joy to the senses and health to the brain:Our ears ache with cries from each Southern lagoon, Our hearts ache with news from the fields of the slain— Bring us balm for the pain.Shine, sun of the summer; blow, wind of the west, And hurl these black battle-clouds back to the wave,Where, with seals of destruction on forehead and breast, (The scourge of our nation, the shame of the brave,) Charleston cowers by her grave.
