JUNE comes to train the roses 

 About the cottage door, 

To teach the little rills to sing 

Far sweeter than before.

June comes a fairy artist, 

To deck the hills and plains;

Her pencil is the golden sun, 

Her brush the summer rains.

June comes in skylark's carol,

In robin's song of glee, 

In bluebird's trill so beautiful,

So tender and so free.

June comes in rippling waters, 

In laughing streams and brooks,

In gurgling rills that hide away 

In grassy clover nooks.

June brings the sweetest music 

That ever charmed the ear,

The woodland choir of singing birds 

That echo far and near.

June tells her tales of gladness,

And drives away all grief; 

She writes her lessons in the woods,

On blossom and on leaf.

June touches softly, lightly, 

The wheat tops and the rye,

The barley and the clover blooms 

That on the meadows lie.

June builds the fairest dwellings,

With every dainty rife, 

For butterfly and honey-bee,

And all the insect life.