Sweet June Days, The

The sweet June days are come again; once more the glad earth yields

its golden wealth of rip’ning grain, and breath of clover fields,

and deep’ning shade of summer woods, and glow of summer air,

and winging thoughts and happy moods of love and joy and prayer.

​

The sweet June days are come again; the birds are on the wing;

bright anthems, in their merry strain, unconsciously they sing.

Oh, how our cup o’er brims with good these happy summer days;

for all the joys of field and wood we lift our song of praise.