The heavens that bend above that land are hung
With clouds of various hues; some dark and chill,
Surcharged with sorrow, cast their somber shade
Upon the sunny, joyous land below:
Others are floating through the dreamy air,
White as falling snow, their margins tinged:
With gold and crimsoned hues; their shadows fall
Upon the flowery meads and sunny slopes,
Soft as the shadow of an angel’s wing.
When the rough battle of the day is done,