WHEN June comes back again I’ll sit Away back from the road and dip
My face and arms in clover blooms,
And drink my fill of their perfumes,
And steep myself in one great gleam
Of sunlight, and I’ll dream,
And dream,
And dream.
I’ll lean back in the grass and sigh
And look love at the blue, blue sky.
Until my senses reel and reel,
Like elm tree branches and ............