Classic Poem

A break in the clouds, and the distant sky
Shines soft and fair in the evening light;
A glimpse of celestial realms on high,
Seen through the canopy of night.

And they sweep along in their majesty,
And dash themselves 'gainst the great hill side,
Then drop in tears, for their destiny
Is only to fall in their fruitless pride.

The distant mountains are white with snow,
Reflecting the sun's last beauteous gleam,
First burnished silver, and then with a glow
Of roseate hue, like some sweet dream.

Battalions of clouds, like angels bright,
Their snowy pinions and serried mass,
In the proud panoply of their might,
As in a vision, I see them pass.

There are spectre faces, and towering forms,
And endless shadowy shapes of fear;
The ghastly portents of coming storms,
That come with the sobbing winds so drear.

And then the billowy oceans vast,
Where ghostly ships are sailing o'er,
With freight of souls, all sorrow past,
Floating to rest on the heavenly shore.

And Alpine ranges, shadowy, dim,
I note them towering, lofty, grand,
With little cloudlets near each rim,
A line of light o'er a pearly strand.

And oh! the castles high in the air;
The vast cathedrals, Gothic spires;
The palaces that are so fair;
Methinks I hear the heavenly choirs.

A fairy vision, and wondrous sweet;
A picture of Heaven so far away;
Who cannot see, and with poets greet,
A gleam from the realm of deathless day?

I note ye all as ye sweep along,
Or calmly rest at peace on high;
Yet I yearn for the sapphire vault of Heaven,
For I love to gaze on a starlit sky.

Oh! lovely cloudland, summer skies,
With your soft opalescent glow;
Ye splendid wraiths in carmine dyes,
And tints not painter yet could show.

I love ye well, and I gladly praise
The great Creator who made ye all;
The clouds and the hill, the sea and the land,
The sun to shine, and the rain to fall.