Blue July, bright July,

Month of storms and gorgeous blue,

Violet lightnings o’er the sky,

Heavy falls of drenching dew,

Summer crown! O’er glen and glade

Shrinking hyacinths in their shade

I welcome thee with all thy pride.

I love thee like an Eastern bride.

Though all the singing days are done

As in those climes that clasp the sun

Though the cuckoo in his throat

Leaves to the Dove his last twin note

Come to me with thy lustrous eye

Golden-dawning oriently

Come with all thy shining blooms

Thy rich red rose and rolling glooms

Though the cuckoo doth but sing ‘cuk cuk’

And the Dove alone doth coo;

Though the cushat spins her coo-r-roo-r-r-roo

To the cuckoos halting cuk.

Sweet July, warm July!

Month when mosses near the stream

Soft green masses thick and shy

Are a rapture and a dream.

Summer Queen! Whose foot the fern

Fades beneath while chestnuts burn

I welcome thee with thy fierce love

Gloom below and gleam above

Though all the forest trees hang dumb

With dense leafiness o’ercome

Though the nightingale and thrush

Pipe not from the bough or bush

Come to me with thy lustrous eye

Azure-melting westerly

The raptures of thy face unfold

And welcome in thy robes of gold!

Tho’ the nightingale broods – sweet-chuck-sweet

And the ouzel flutes so chill

Tho’ the throstle gives but one shrilly trill

To the nightingale’s ‘Sweet-sweet’