The Chestnut

Who enters here, beneath this guardian shade, Feels over him a tender sky of leaves Dearer than heaven: at once his eye receives Strange quiet: fathomless as water swayed Above far--sunken ships, this luminous height Of dimness interposed Against the hot sun--beams Opens, a world uncertain of cool dreams And blurs of shadow and spots of sleepy light With ever greener quiet charmed and closed. Yet in the soft--hung leaves a splendour lies, As though not from the far--off noon it came But in themselves a green indwelling flame Were prisoned. Here unanswered mysteries Content me, and of peace I want not more, But feed on thoughts that end In a sweet pause of mind, As if from my own being back resigned To the universal essence of Earth's core, Where over me the saps of life ascend.