XIX Lilent Noon

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.
  All round our nest, far as the eye can pass,
  Are 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 sun-search'd growths the dragon-fiy
  Hangs like a blue thread loosen'd from the sky:--
  So this wing'd hour is dropt to us from above.
  Oh! clasp we to our hearts, for deathless dower,
  This close-companion'd inarticulate hour
  When twofold silence was the song of love.

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