July ~ When The Hours Are So Still That Time Forgets Them

From Totus Tuus:

When the heat like a mist-veil floats,

And poppies flame in the rye,

And the silver note in the streamlet's throat

Has softened almost to a sigh,

It is July.

  

When the hours are so still that time

Forgets them, and lets them lie

'Neath petals pink till the night stars wink

At the sunset in the sky,

It is July.

                 

  -Susan Hartley Swett

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