June
Lily of June, pearl-petalled, emerald-leaved!
A sceptre thou, a silver-studded wand
By lusty June, the Lord of Summer, waved,
To give to blade and bud his high command.
Meneerke Bloem, Lilium
Nay! not a sceptre, but a seated Bride,
The white Sultana of a world of flowers.
Chosen, o'er all their passion and their pride,
To reign with June, Lady of azure hours.
Ah, Vestal-bosomed! Thou that, all the May,
From maidenly reserve wouldst not depart,
Till June's warm wooing won thee to display
The golden secret hidden at thy heart:
Lay thy white heart bare to the Summer King!
Brim thy broad chalice for him with fresh rain!
Fling to him from thy milky censers, fling
Fine fragrances, a Bride without a stain!
Without?— look, June! thy pearly love is smutched!
That which did wake her gentle beauty, slays;
Alas! that notliing lovely lasts, if touched
By aught more earnest than a longing gaze.
~~
Edwin Arnold (1832-1904)
from Poems: National and non-oriental, 1906
[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]
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