Silent 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-searched growths the dragon-fly
Hangs like a blue thread loosened 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-companioned inarticulate hour
When twofold silence was

the song

of love.

-Rossetti

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