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.