Word count: 65
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When June is come, then all the day
I'll sit with my love in the scented hay:
And watch the sunshot palaces high,
That the white clouds build in the breezy sky.
She singeth, and I do make her a song,
And read sweet poems the whole day long:
Unseen as we lie in our haybuilt home,
O, life is delight when June is come.
Submitted by Emily Ezust [Administrator]
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- Emily Ezust
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