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Clouds on clouds, in volumes driven,
Curtain round the vault of heaven.
Clouds on clouds, in volumes driven,
Curtain round the vault of heaven.
Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel?
By th' mass and 'tis, like a read more
Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel?
By th' mass and 'tis, like a camel indeed.
Methinks it is like a weasel.
It is backed like a weasel.
Or like a whale.
Very like a whale.
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.
The clouds,--the only birds that never sleep.
The clouds,--the only birds that never sleep.
I saw two clouds at morning
Tinged by the rising sun,
And in the dawn they floated read more
I saw two clouds at morning
Tinged by the rising sun,
And in the dawn they floated on
And mingled into one.
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?
Who covereth thyself with light as a garment: who stretchest out
the heavens like a curtain:
Who layeth read more
Who covereth thyself with light as a garment: who stretchest out
the heavens like a curtain:
Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters: who maketh
the clouds his chariot: who walketh upon the wings of the wind:
Who maketh his angels spirits: his ministers a flaming fire:
Who laid the foundations of the earth, that it should not be
removed for ever.
So when the sun in bed,
Curtain'd with cloudy red,
Pillows his chin upon an orient wave.
So when the sun in bed,
Curtain'd with cloudy red,
Pillows his chin upon an orient wave.
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.