I stood cautiously upon the "great" hill,
The breeze, calming and 'o so very still;
And the sweet new blooms were proud.
Languid pull, curved, beneath a shroud,
Their sweet leaves of a sweetness stems,
Crowns which keep the droplet diadems
Caught from the budding tears o "Morn";
And clouds were fair, so wispy, so borne;
Fresh from the clear beck which so slept
Upon Azure plains of sky, and then crept
A faint buzzing among the green'r leaves;
Born of th' sigh that this quietude heaves.
For not the dimmest stirring in this  scene
Of all the umbrage that lie over the green
Was seen -such Joy such solace did bring.