Poem by George MacDonald

To June

Ah, truant, thou art here again, I see!
For in a season of such wretched weather
I thought that thou hadst left us altogether,
Although I could not choose but fancy thee
Skulking about the hill-tops, whence the glee
Of thy blue laughter peeped at times, or rather
Thy bashful awkwardness, as doubtful whether
Thou shouldst be seen in such a company
Of ugly runaways, unshapely heaps
Of ruffian vapour, broken from restraint
Of their slim prison in the ocean deeps.
But yet I may not chide: fall to thy books-
Fall to immediately without complaint-
There they are lying, hills and vales and brooks. 

1. The Gospel Women. 6. The Woman whom Satan had bound
2. The Gospel Women. 2. The Woman that lifted up her Voice
3. The Gospel Women. 15. Mary
4. The Gospel Women. 11. The Woman of Samaria
5. The Gospel Women. 8. The Widow with the Two Mites

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