When the brow of June is crowned by the rose
And the air is faint and fain with her breath,
Then the Earth hath rest from her long birth-throes;

The Earth hath rest and forgetteth her woes
As she watcheth the cradle of Love and Death,
When the brow of June is crowned by the rose.

O Love and Death, who are counted for foes,
She sees you twins of one mind and faith—
The Earth at rest from her long birth-throes.

You are twins to the mother who sees and knows;
‘Let them strive and thrive together,’ she saith,—
When the brow of June is crowned by the rose.

They strive, and Love his brother outgrows,
But for strength and beauty he travaileth
On the Earth at rest from her long birth-throes.

And still when his passionate heart o'erflows
Death winds about him a bridal wreath,—
As the brow of June is crowned by the rose!

So the bands of Death true lovers enclose,
For Love and Death are as Sword and Sheath,
When the Earth hath rest from her long birth-throes.

They are Sword and Sheath, they are Life and its Shows
Which lovers have grace to see beneath,
When the brow of June is crowned by the rose
And the Earth hath rest from her long birth-throes.