Noon! and in the garden bower br The hot air quivers o’er the grass, br The little lake is smooth as glass br And still so heavily the hour br Drags, that scarce the proudest flower br Pressed upon its burning bed br Has strength to lift a languid head: br —Rose and fainting violet br By the water’s margin set br Swoon and sink as they were dead br Though their weary leaves be fed br With the foam-drops of the pool br Where it trembles dark and cool br Wrinkled by the fountain spraying br O’er it. And the honey-bee br Hums his drowsy melody br And wanders in his course a-straying br Through the sweet and tangled glade br With his golden mead o’erladen, br Where beneath the pleasant shade br Of the darkling boughs a maiden br —Milky limb and fiery tress, br All at sweetest random laid— br Slumbers, drunken with the excess br Of the noontide’s loveliness.