Sweet Friend! can look from our tranquillity
Like lamps into the world’s tempestuous night,—
Two tranquil stars, while clouds are passing by 115
Which wrap them from the foundering seaman’s sight,
That burn from year to year with unextinguished light.
Percy Bysshe Shelley.
CCXX
FRANCE: AN ODE, 1797.
Ye clouds! that far above me float and pause,
Whose pathless march no mortal may control!
Ye ocean-waves! that, wheresoe’er ye roll,