The morning clouds are wreathing The brows of lesser peaks, And bits of rugged landscape Are screened by phantom freaks. The narrow bands of silver Traverse the rippling green, And vaporous volcanoes With icy cones are seen. The view is most impressive In somber tones of space, With frosty blue of shadows And granite blocks of lace. A world of other glory As weird as indigo, With heaven an inky blackness And milky clouds below. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EASTER HYMN by GEORGE SANTAYANA LINES TO A MOVEMENT IN MOZART'S E-FLAT SYMPHONY by THOMAS HARDY SHEEP AND LAMBS by KATHARINE TYNAN LADY OF CASTLENORE; A.D. 1700 by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH LINES FOR THE HOUR by HAMILTON FISH ARMSTRONG THE WOODLANDS by WILLIAM BARNES PSALM 3; WHEN HE FLED FROM ABSALOM; AUGUST 9, 1653 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |