The Secret Splendour

Zenith

Intolerable hung the white noon-flush;

The hot tree sucked its own cool shadow up,

And melody ran cry in each bird's throat,

 While human eyes ached for the dewy dark.

But in my mood the solitary stark

Sun was an ultimate crown whereunder thought

 Shadeless, unblurred by life's heavy tear-drop,

 Arose into a kingship of God-hush!

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