Your hands lie open in the long
fresh grass, -
The finger-points look through like rosy blooms:
Your eyes smile peace.
The pasture gleams and glooms
'Neath billowing skies that scatter and amass.

cll round our nest, far as the eye
can pass,
cre golden kingcup fields with
silver edge
Where the cow-parsley skirts the
hawthorn hedge.
'Tis visible silence, still as the hour
glass.

Deep in the sunsearched growths
the dragon-fly
Hangs like a blue thread loosened
from the sky: -
So this winged hour is dropt to us
from above.
Oh! clasp we to our hearts, for
deathless dower,
This close-companioned
inarticulate hour
When twofold silence was the
song of love.

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