… the woven leaves
Make net-work of the dark blue lights of day
And the night’s noontide clearness, mutable
As shapes in the weird clouds.
One darkest glen
Sends from its woods of musk-rose twined with jasmine
A soul-dissolving odor, to invite
To some more lovely mystery. Through the dell
Silence and twilight here, twin sisters, keep
Their noonday watch, and sail among the shades