I have of late--but wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth,
forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed, it goes so heavily
with my disposition that this goodly frame the earth seems to me
a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look
you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof
fretted with golden fire--why, it appeareth nothing to me but a
foul and pestilent congregation of vapors.
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The soft blue sky did never melt
Into his heart; he never felt
The witching of the read more
The soft blue sky did never melt
Into his heart; he never felt
The witching of the soft blue sky!
"Darkly, deeply, beautifully blue,"
As some one somewhere sings about the sky.
"Darkly, deeply, beautifully blue,"
As some one somewhere sings about the sky.
The moon has set
In a bank of jet
That fringes the Western sky,
read more
The moon has set
In a bank of jet
That fringes the Western sky,
The pleiads seven
Have sunk from heaven
And the midnight hurries by;
My hopes are flown
And, alas! alone
On my weary couch I lie.
Heaven's ebon vault,
Studded with stars unutterably bright,
Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls,
read more
Heaven's ebon vault,
Studded with stars unutterably bright,
Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls,
Seems like a canopy which love has spread
To curtain her sleeping world.
Never till then so many thunderbolts from cloudless skies. (Bolt
from the blue.)
[Lat., Non alias caelo ceciderunt read more
Never till then so many thunderbolts from cloudless skies. (Bolt
from the blue.)
[Lat., Non alias caelo ceciderunt plura sereno.]
Of evening tinct,
The purple-streaming Amethyst is thine.
Of evening tinct,
The purple-streaming Amethyst is thine.
The mountain at a given distance
In amber lies;
Approached, the amber flits a little,--
read more
The mountain at a given distance
In amber lies;
Approached, the amber flits a little,--
And that's the skies!
A certain recluse, I know not who, once said that no bonds attached him to this life, and the only read more
A certain recluse, I know not who, once said that no bonds attached him to this life, and the only thing he would regret leaving was the sky.
The sky
is that beautiful old parchment
in which the sun
and the moon
read more
The sky
is that beautiful old parchment
in which the sun
and the moon
keep their diary.
