Classic Poem

Such fragrant air, how could I breathe yet sleep?
How could I hear the tuneful graybird sing,
Chanting his sweet and simple ancient rune,
How could I hear the choristers of June
Their joy to gem the lingering silence bring,
Yet in the Lethean stream my senses steep?

With breathings of a joy more sweet than sound;
Some far-off Pisgah dream, my soul athirst
Doth realize in this June-dawn delight.
The lilacs clustered yonder, purple, white,
Challenge a rival sense. The violets burst
Out of the fragrant summer lands around

The eye hath with the ear an equal boon;
The restful blue above the varied scene;
The flowers and forests and bright-plumaged birds
Beggar the lips with poverty of words
To paint the spreading hillsides far and green
When all I see and hear and breathe is June.