Hot noon-tide,
And the shackled sun
Lies sleeping under the pine-trees,
Like a caged leopard:

Glad and cool,
The blue hydrangeas
Stream through tiny sun-plains
And pigmy hills of shadow;

Soft and slow,
The swaying agapanthus
Beat blue chimes
Upon the brazen gong of sunlight;

And all around
Hidden ring-doves
Scatter a blue rain of song
Upon the dust of silence.