when june comes back again i’ll sit

away back from the road and dip

my face and arms in clover blooms,

and drink my fill of their perfumes,

and steep myself in one great gleam

of sunlight, and i’ll dream,

and dream,

and dream.

i’ll lean back in the grass and sigh

and look love at the blue, blue sky.

until my senses reel and reel,

like elm tree branches and a feel—

of drowsiness oozes between,

my eyelids, while i dream,

and dream,

and dream.

a lethargy binds tongue and lips,

and creeps down to my fingertips.

troubles, cares and everything,

float out past my remembering.

and all the world is one great beam

of gladness, while i dream,

and dream,

and dream.