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.