and what is so rare as a day in June?

Just about all of us memorized the poem (shown below) in high school, but it has a much richer history than all of us are aware of.

First off, here’s the part that we remember:

And what is so rare as a day in June?

Then, if ever, come perfect days;

Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune,

And over it softly her warm ear lays:

Whether we look, or whether we listen,

We hear life murmur, or see it glisten;

The stanzas above are a small part of a larger work titled, “The Vision of Sir Launfal”, which was released by James Russell Lowell in 1848. You can read it in its entirety in the link below, but the COMPLETE poem involving the month of June goes from line 34 to line 95 of “Prelude to Part First”.

https://www.gutenberg.org/files/17119/17119-h/17119-h.htm#PART_FIRST

The “rest of the story” is steeped in biblical history, since Sir Laundal was in search of the holy grail, the chalice that Jesus drank from at the last supper.

(To quote Indiana Jones, “this is the cup of a carpenter”. )

Here’s a couple of paragraphs from “Part First”:

My golden spurs now bring to me,

And bring to me my richest mail,

For to-morrow I go over land and sea,

In search of the Holy Grail;

Shall never a bed for me be spread

Nor shall a pillow be under my head,

Till I begin my vow to keep

Here on the rushes will I sleep,

And perchance there may come a vision true

Ere day create the world anew."

Slowly Sir Launfal's eyes grew dim,

Slumber fell like a cloud on him,

And into his soul the vision flew.

The drawbridge dropped with a surly clang,

and through the dark arch a charger sprang,

Bearing Sir Launfal, the maiden knight,

In his gilded mail, that flamed so bright

It seemed the dark castle had gathered all

Those shafts the fierce sun had shot over its wall

In his siege of three hundred summers long,

binding them all in one blazing sheaf,

Had cast them forth: so, young and strong,

And lightsome as a locust-leaf,

Sir Launfal flashed forth in his unscarred mail,

To seek in all climes for the Holy Grail.

The poem is 345 lines long, and it worth reading in its entirely.

In the end, or course, Sin Launfal finds the holy grail – but it is not what he expected.

Remember these words as you read the closing lines:

And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it 
to them, saying,“This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in 

remembrance of me.” And likewise the cup after they had eaten, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood. (Luke 22:19)