Songs of Travel: II. Let Beauty Awake

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 clouds
That scatter and amass
All round our nest far less the eye can pass
Of golden clean-cut fields with silver edge
Where the cow parsley skirts the hawthorn hedge
'Tis visible silence, still as the hourglass
Deep in the sunsеarched growths the dragon-fly
Hangs like a bluе thread loosened from the sky
So 'neath winged hour he's dropped to us from above
O clasp we to our hearts, more deathless now
This close companioned in articulate hour
When too full silence was the song of love