There does a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night,
And casts a gleam read more

There does a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night,
And casts a gleam over this tufted grove.

Were I a cloud I'd gather
My skirts up in the air,
And fly well know whither,
read more

Were I a cloud I'd gather
My skirts up in the air,
And fly well know whither,
And rest I well know where.

I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
From the seas and the streams;
I bear light read more

I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
From the seas and the streams;
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
In their noonday dreams.
From my wings are shaken the dews that waken
The sweet buds every one,
When rocked to rest on their mother's breast,
As she dances about the sun.
I wield the flail of the lashing hail,
And whiten the green plains under,
And then again I dissolve it in rain,
And laugh as I pass in thunder.

Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night?

Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night?

Moreover, brethren, I would not that ye should be ignorant, how
that al our fathers were under the cloud, read more

Moreover, brethren, I would not that ye should be ignorant, how
that al our fathers were under the cloud, and all passed through
the sea.

The cloud never comes from the quarter of the horizon from which we watch for it.

The cloud never comes from the quarter of the horizon from which we watch for it.

When clouds appear like rocks and towers,
The earth's refreshed by frequent showers.

When clouds appear like rocks and towers,
The earth's refreshed by frequent showers.

Have you ever, looking up, seen a cloud like to a Centaur, a
Part, or a Wolf, or a read more

Have you ever, looking up, seen a cloud like to a Centaur, a
Part, or a Wolf, or a Bull?

My prophecy is but half his journey yet,
For yonder walls, that pertly front your town,
Yon read more

My prophecy is but half his journey yet,
For yonder walls, that pertly front your town,
Yon towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds,
Must kiss their own feet.