134 JUNE. 



When noon is in the flaming sky 



Seek we some shadowy, silent wood ; 

 Recline upon a mossy knoll, 

 Cast care aside, and yield the soul 

 To that luxurious quietude. 



Above, waves wide the linden tree, 



With humming-bees the air is thrilled, 

 And through the sleeping hush is heard 

 The sudden voice of the woodland bird, 

 Like sound with which a dream is filled. 



Oh pleasant land of idlesse ! 



Jollity bides not 'neath the trees, 

 But thought, that roams from folly free, 

 Through the pure world of poetry, 



Puts on her strength in scenes like these ! 



And sweet it is by lonely meres 



To sit, with heart and soul awake, 

 Where water-lilies lie afloat, 

 Each anchored like a fairy boat 

 Amid some fabled elfin lake : 



To see the birds flit to and fro 



Along the dark-green reedy edge ; 



Or fish leap up to catch the fly ; 



Or list the viewless wind pass by. 

 Leaving its voice amid the sedge. 



