Jean Blewett

Youth and June

I was your lover long ago, sweet June,
 Ere life grew hard; I am your lover still,
And follow gladly to the wondrous tune
 You pipe on golden reeds to vale and hill.
I am your lover still; to me you seem
 To hold the fragrance of the joys long
  dead,
The brightness and the beauty of the dream
 We dreamed in youth, to hold the tears
  we shed,
The laughter of our lips, the faith that lies
 Back in that season dear to every heart,
Life's springtime, when God's earth and
  God's blue skies
 Are, measured by our glance, not far apart.