Classic Poem

Oh, hasten, year, to bring us June,
Folded within your dreaming heart
Like petals of a rose, that soon
The wooing winds will kiss apart.

Hasten, O sun, across the sky,
Nor make, I pray, a long delay;
Let the sweet bloom of daylight die,
And twilight stars forbid to stay;

Till wreathed in blossoms morn appears,
Wasting her fragrance everywhere,
And echoes of the chiming spheres
Seem pulsing on the summer air.