Classic Poem

TO — —

The garden, crowned by soft and fragrant June,
Blooms nonchalant beneath the mute, blue sky.
In fleecy shoals the stainless clouds pass by.
Each poplar quivers to a linnets' tune.

The souls of roses by the zephyrs strewn,
Perfume the air in myriads ere they die,
And seem in redolent agony to lie,
Lacking the benediction of the moon.

An aureole of light tints every tree,
Nature unsullied dreams her dream of love,
Wooing the sun unto her nuptial bowers,
And, in the emerald distance, I can see
A maiden, white as Aphrodite's dove
Pass like a queen amid her sister flowers!