June,
And a new moon
Flying the west, like a golden dove,
Thro’ the clouds that swim,
Wraithlike and dim,
The sleeping amethyst sea above;
The deep red rose
Thro’ the dusk that glows,
With tremulous petals wide outspread,
And shakes perfume
Thro’ the unlit room,
Where Sorrow sits with drooping head;
The pale soft kiss
Of the clematis
On the pane . . . Later, the rain;
Musical, light,
Thro’ the long, sweet night,
The sorrow-hushing rain!
Oh, heart that aches,
And heart that breaks,
And heart that is torn with wild regret,
Take cheer again
In thy bitter pain,
There is hope for the sorriest hearted yet;
While speaks the rain
At the door and pane,
And to passionate plaining murmurs,―“Hush!”
While its soft notes sigh
Like a lullaby
“Hush thee, hush thee―hush―hush!”
“June Rain” as it appears in Higginson’s The Voice of April-Land and Other Poems (1903).