Poems (Trask)/July

by Clara Augusta Jones Trask

JULY.

Clad in her robes of green and gold
And royal purple, fold on fold,
   Midsummer's gracious Queen
Enters her kingdom, blossom-crowned,
And sheds her peerless grace around
   With majesty serene.

She brings a wealth of deep-blue skies,
Hot sunsets flushed with scarlet dyes
   And sweet with airs of balm.
Voluptuous swells of melody,
Bird diapasons wild and free,
   Break on the pulseless calm.

The springs are low; the tall grass dips
Within the brook its thirsty lips,
   To drink with eager zest;
In the green woods the shadows lie
So deep, the south wind's lang'rous sigh
   Scarce palpitates their rest.

July! thou priestess of the year!
Sweet Southron, from a tropic sphere!
   Native of some far shore!
Rich tones, and thrills, and breaths, are thine,
The souvenirs of lands divine
   Thy mantle hath swept o'er!