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Sunday, July 14, 2024

July / Susan Hartley Swett


July

When the scarlet cardinal tells
    Her dream to the dragon fly,
And the lazy breeze makes a nest in the trees,
    And murmurs a lullaby,
            It is July.

When the tangled cobweb pulls
    The cornflower's cap awry,
And the lilies tall lean over the wall
    To bow to the butterfly,
            It is July.

When the heat like a mist veil floats,
    And poppies flame in the rye,
And the silver note in the streamlet's throat
    Has softened almost to a sigh,
            It is July.

When the hours are so still that time
    Forgets them, and lets them lie
'Neath petals pink till the night stars wink
    At the sunset in the sky,
            It is July.

When each finger-post by the way
    Says that Slumbertown is nigh;
When the grass is tall, and the roses fall,
    And nobody wonders why,
            It is July.

~~
Susan Hartley Swett (1843-1907)
from Through the Year with the Poets: July, 1886

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide


Txllxt TxllxT, Uitkijkpunt, Horsmeertjes, July 2010. CC BY-SA 4.0Wikimedia Commons.

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