Classic Poem

A SKETCH

From out the purple portals of the East,
Peers the first dawn of day upon the world,
With dim, uncertain light. Huge clouds still wrap
The base of fiery Stromboli; — and Night,
With her black waving pennons, lingers yet,
Far in the western hemisphere — Long trains
Of tremulous mist curtain the deep blue breast
Of Adria's waveless ocean. Some repose,
In folds fantastically graceful, on
The glassy waters; — others, slowly wind
Their way in silvery circuitings to heaven;
And, as in mockery of the glance that strives
To trace their airy wanderings, dissolve,
Invisibly, whilst yet the gazer's eye
Strains its intensest nerve. Light breaks,
With giant stride, upon the earth, and breathes
The breath of life into the stagnant veins
Of slumber-locked creation. Yon white clouds,
That seem to rise like mountains from the sea,
Garbed with untrodden snows, suddenly grow
Radiant with streaks of gold; — a deeper blush
Of crimson now pervades them, and the sun,
Lifting his orb above the wave, looks out
In glory on the world!
Nature around
Hath wakened from her trance, and, shaking off
The night dews from her beauty, stands revealed
In rainbow-tinted loveliness to man.