The hollow is a golden sight,
With murmurs and bowers new,
The trees like shadows quit the night,
Bright leaves in every hue.

With peppers red and violets blue,
Bright flowers unclose their eyes,
The wind has blown the petals through,
To stir with airy sighs.

And when the sun sinks to the wave,
And earth is wrapped in gloom,
Oh, may our hearts no longer crave
The flowers beyond the bloom.

• Alfred Lord Tennyson