These[147] formed the host of mourners that were bidden,
Beneath the cloudless concave of great heaven,
To bear their witness to the last remains
Of him, who now was past all mortal pains.
(Though not a cloud that day[148] was ever seen,
Sol wore a halo, and look’d very dim,—
The only way the god could mark his love,
As through the heavens he slowly seem’d to move,
Towards the one who’d revelled in his ray,
And welcomed him at each successive day.)