noon
he sang to it tenderly , `` I love you . I love you as the dragon-flies do , as the wagtails do , as the water voles do ; I am you and you are me . When I lean over you and smile , you smile back to me . You are beautiful in the night and the morning , when you mirror the moon and play with the sunbeams , when you are angry under the wind , and when you are at peace in the heat of the noon . You have been purple with the blood of my people , and now you are green and fresh as the leaves of the young vine . You have been black with powder and battle , now you are fair with the hue of the sky and the blue of the myosotis . You are the same river as you were a thousand years ago , and yet you only come down to-day from the high hills , young and strong , and ever renewing .