Poem by Amy Levy

June

Last June I saw your face three times;
Three times I touched your hand;
Now, as before, May month is o’er,
And June is in the land.

O many Junes shall come and go,
Flow’r-footed o’er the mead;
O many Junes for me, to whom
Is length of days decreed.

There shall be sunlight, scent of rose;
Warm mist of summer rain;
Only this change--I shall not look
Upon your face again.

1. A Greek Girl
2. In a Minor Key
3. On the Threshold
4. Philosophy
5. Ralph to Mary

Edgar Guest June ("June is here, the month of roses, month of brides and month of bees")

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