The Decameron By Aldous Leonard Huxley

    Noon with a depth of shadow beneath the trees
    Shakes in the heat, quivers to the sound of lutes:
    Half shaded, half sunlit, a great bowl of fruits
    Glistens purple and golden: the flasks of wine
    Cool in their panniers of snow: silks muffle and shine:
    Dim velvet, where through the leaves a sunbeam shoots,
    Rifts in a pane of scarlet: fingers tapping the roots
    Keep languid time to the music’s soft slow decline.

    Suddenly from the gate rises up a cry,
    Hideous broken laughter, scarce human in sound;
    Gaunt clawed hands, thrust through the bars despairingly,
    Clutch fast at the scented air, while on the ground
    Lie the poor plague-stricken carrions, who have found
    Strength to crawl forth and curse the sunshine and die.