The speaker imagines slipping back to the Gloucestershire villages of Minsterworth and Framilode in summer, when sunlight and bees fill the air. He won’t send word ahead; he’ll simply appear, ride the old familiar road, and step into a cool, dark passage without saying anything. His presence alone will be the message. The mood is tender and quietly excited—he pictures standing and gazing with someone, wondering how they ever survived “those Bad Days” without this landscape, its western breeze on hot skin and hair. But the final line changes everything: “here’s my dream irrevocably over.” The whole return is a remembered or imagined escape, and the poem closes with longing cut short by reality.
June--to--Come — Summary
When the sun’s fire and gold Sets the bee humming, I will not write to tell Him that I’m coming, But ride out unawares On that old road, Of Minsterworth, of Peace, Of Framilode, And walk, not looked for, in That cool, dark passage. Never a single word; Myself my message. And then; well ... O we’ll drift And stand and gaze, And wonder how we could In those Bad Days Live without Minsterworth; Or western air Fanning the hot cheek, Stirring the hair; In land where hate of men God’s love did cover; This land.... And here’s my dream Irrevocably over.