AS I gazed on the prospect enchanted, On waves the sun-glory had kissed, There slowly swept down from the distance, The phantom-like bands of the mist. On their feet that were spectrally soundless, They glided fantastic and chill, While a prescient pallor crept over The beauty of lake-side and hill! All nature grew cold at their advent! Like Thugs of the air, demon-born, With their coils of blue vapor they strangled The virgin effulgence of morn. By that ambush of darkness was girdled Each bright beam in dreary embrace, Till the fairest young dawn of September Lay wan on her death-shadowed face. When wildly and weirdly from sea-ward, A low wind how mournfully stole! Like an anthem outbreathed for the morning, Thus sternly divorced from her soul! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER A VISIT by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SONNET ON SITTING DOWN TO READ KING LEAR ONCE AGAIN by JOHN KEATS L. OF G.'S PURPORT by WALT WHITMAN SONG OF THE OPEN ROAD by WALT WHITMAN THE STOLEN CHILD by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS TO JOHN DRYDEN, ESQ.; POET LAUREATE AND HISTOGRAPHER ROYAL by PHILIP AYRES |