About the sheltered garden ground
⁠The trees stand strangely still.
The vale ne'er seemed so deep before,
⁠Nor yet so high the hill.

An awful sense of quietness,
⁠A fulness of repose,
Breathes from the dewy garden-lawns,
⁠The silent garden rows.

As the hoof-beats of a troop of horse
⁠Heard far across a plain,
A nearer knowledge of great thoughts
⁠Thrills vaguely through my brain.

I lean my head upon my arm,
⁠My heart's too full to think;
Like the roar of seas, upon my heart
⁠Doth the morning stillness sink.