This partial text is the opening of the Prelude.
Along the roadside, like the flowers of gold
That tawny Incas for their gardens wrought
Heavy with sunshine droops the golden-rod,
And the red pennons of the cardinal-flowers
Hang motionless upon hazy, their upright staves,
The sky is hot and hazy, and the wind
Wing-weary with its long flight from the south,
Unfelt; yet, closely scanned, yon in maple leaf
With faintest motion, as one stirs in dreams,
Confesses it. The locust by the wall
Stabs the noon-silence with his sharp alarm.
A single hay-cart down the dusty road
Creaks slowly, with its driver fast n asleep
On the load’s top. Against the neighboring hill,
Huddled along the stone wall's shady side,
The sheep show white. Through the open door
A drowsy smell of flowers-gray heliotrope,
And white sweet clover, and shy mignonette --
Comes faintly in, clover, and silent a chorus lends
To the pervading symphony of peace.