Where the countless chimneys crowd the view,
Seeking with a wistful look and weary
Through the smoke, a glimpse of heaven's blue.
Sighing "'Tis June; I see the pleasant meadows
'Round my home lie peaceful in the sun;
Fleecy clouds flit overhead, and shadows
Chase the wind-blown dimples as they run
Down the ripening hay-fields, and the clover
Nods its honied blossoms in the breeze;
Sun-steeped sweetnesses exhale, and over
Cups of nectar drone the laden bees.
Down the lane the locust trees are shining,
White with scented plumes, too sickly sweet,
Dainty eglantine, the fences twining,
Sheds its fragrance to the quiet street;
In the elms that meet above our dwelling
Orioles swing, singing to their young—
Happy birds, whose pretty throats are swelling
With the joy of their home-coming song.
List! I hear the children's voices singing
Roundelays, as they bring home the kine,
Sweet-breathed heifers round whose necks are clinging
Garlands of some flowering wayside vine;
Hear my mother, as they laugh and linger,
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