Page:Poems Thaxter.djvu/32

Later, June bids the sweet wild rose to blow,
 Wakes from its dream the drowsy pimpernel;
Unfolds the bindweed's ivory buds that glow
 As delicately blushing as a shell.

Then purple Iris smiles, and hour by hour,
 The fair procession multiplies; and soon,
In clusters creamy white, the elder-flower
 Waves its broad disk against the rising moon.

O'er quiet beaches shelving to the sea
 Tall mulleins sway, and thistles; all day long
Flows in the wooing water dreamily,
 With subtile music in its slumberous song.

Herb-robert hears, and princess'-feather bright,
 And gold-thread clasps the little skull-cap blue;
And troops of swallows, gathering for their flight,
 O'er golden-rod and asters hold review.

The barren island dreams in flowers, while blow
 The south winds, drawing haze o'er sea and land;
Yet the great heart of ocean, throbbing slow,
 Makes the frail blossoms vibrate where they stand;