IN the low-lying April afternoon
The earth was hushed within a mellow mist
Across the new brown meadows; the white sun
Was gathered in a knot of clouds and gave
No thought of an infinity beyond.
Each blade of grass was conscious of its shadow;
The sounds of birds and waters and the air
Were stilled within the silence where I sat
Beside, and as I sat I felt the least
Of nature's children that around me played,
And all was like a dream. I gathered up
A handful of the grass and then forgot it;
I felt a gentle rising of the wind
And heard a sparrow whisper close at hand,
With other little life beside me; but
The distance faded and the nearness grew
Confusèd to a fancy in the gray,
The desolate gray shadow of the earth,
Unreal and dimly dying from my thought
Till all was nothing save the sun and me.