Sparks of the torrid vapour that burned behind the bars
Of evening, broke dawn's rose, or smouldered in the stars,
Or lit the glowworm's taper, or wavered over the fen,
Or tipped the javelin of the far-ravening levin,
Lash of the Lord of Heaven and bitter scourge of sin.
O beautiful, O bright! my tired sinews strained
To this torch that flared and waned as a watery planet gloweth
And waneth in the night when a calm sea floweth
Under a misty sky spread with the tattered veils
Of rapid cloud driven over the deeps of heaven