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 hourglass. 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 hourglass.