First to our sight their branches brown and bare
Stood naked in the days of early spring,
Where haply showed the brilliant azure wing
Of some conceited jay-bird roaming there;
And then came May, and all the waiting air
Was white with dainty blossoms quivering
With hordes of bees that gathered there to cling,
And all those honeyed sweets to claim and share.

But best of all was in the days of June,
When thick and full the canopy of leaves
Put back the sun with sheltering emerald eaves,
And housed us from the fervent light of noon;
How happily we told there in the shade
Of dreams of one another, unafraid.