I stood cautiously upon that great hill, The breeze was calming, & so very still That the sweet new blooms were proud. Languid pull, in a curve, neath a shroud, Their sweet leaves by sweetness stems, CrownsΒ Β that keep those astral diadems Caught from the budding tears of morn; And clouds were fair, so wispy and borne Fresh from the clear beck; they still slept Upon azure plains of sky; and then crept A faint buzzing among the green leaves, Born of a sigh that that quietude heaves, For not the dimmest stirring in the scene, Of all the umbrage that lie o'er the green; Was seen as yet, such Joy such solace did bring.