JUNE.

Hotly burns the amaryllis

With its stars of red;

Whitely rise the stately lilies

From the lily bed;

Withered shrinks the wax May-apple

‘ Neath its parasol;

Chilly dies the violet dapple

In its earthly hall.

March is but a blust'ring liar,

April a sad love,

May a milkmaid from the byre

Flirting in the grove.

June is rich in many blossoms,

She's the one I'll woo;

Health swells in her sunny bosoms,

She's my sweetheart true.