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.
Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828-82)