A Midsummer's Noon in the Australian Forest

Not a sound disturbs the air, 
There is quiet everywhere; 
Over plains and over woods 
What a mighty stillness broods! 
All the birds and insects sleep;
Where the coolest shadows sleep; 
Even the busy ants are found 
Resting in their pebbled mound; 
Even the locust clingeth now 
Silent to the barky bough:
Over hills and over plains 
Quiet, vast and slumbrous, reigns. 
 
Only there ’s a drowsy humming 
From you warm lagoon slow-coming: 
’T is the dragon-hornet—see! 
All bedaubed resplendently 
Yellow on a tawny ground— 
Each rich spot not square nor round, 
Rudely heart-shaped, as it were 
The blurred and hasty impress there 
Of a vermeil-crusted seal 
Dusted o’er with golden meal. 
Only there ’s a droning where 
You bright beetle shines in air, 
Tracks it in its gleaming flight 
With a slanting beam of light 
Rising in the sunshine higher, 
Till its shards flame out like fire. 
 
Every other thing is still, 
Save the ever-wakeful rill,
Whose cool murmur only throws 
Cooler comfort round repose; 
Or some ripple in the sea, 
Of leafy boughs, where, lazily, 
Tired summer, in her bower
Turning with the noontide hour, 
Heaves a slumbrous breath ere she 
Once more slumbers peacefully. 
 
Oh, ’t is easeful here to lie 
Hidden from noon’s scorching eye, 
In this grassy cool recess 
Musing thus of quietness.