Noons drop gently here, and steal on the winds away. Noons fall silently as flower-petals fall; From the quiet dream-lit hills they fall Into the court-petals of oleander falling: Noons of today, noons of yesterday, Fragrant noons of centuries ago— A hush in the wind, the soft tones of a gong Touched lightly like an ancient song Begun and never ended. It is so They come and rest awhile, and then are gone Upon the wind.
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