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JUNE

by Horatio Alger, Jr.

Throw open wide your golden gates,
  O poet-landed month of June,
And waft me, on your spicy breath,
  The melody of birds in tune.

O fairest palace of the three,
  Wherein Queen Summer holdeth sway,
I gaze upon your leafy courts
  From out the vestibule of May.

I fain would tread your garden walks,
  Or in your shady bowers recline;
Then open wide your golden gates,
  And make them mine, and make them mine.

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