A STORMY SUNSET.
1
Soul of my body! what a death
For such a day of envious gloom,
Unbroken passion of the sky!
As if the pure, kind-hearted breath
Of some soft power, ever nigh,
Had, cleaving in the bitter sheath,
Burst from its grave a gorgeous bloom.
2
The majesty of clouds that swarm.
Expanding in a furious length
Of molten-metal petals, flows
Unutterable, and where the warm,
Full fire is centered, swims and glows
The evening star fresh-faced with strength,
A shimmering rain-drop of the storm.
ON A DIAL.
1
To-morrow and to-morrow
Is but to-day:
The world wags but to borrow
Time that grows gray:—
Grammercy! time's but sorrow
And—well away!