’Twas now the pride, the manhood of the year,
And eke the ground was decked in its most deft aumere. apparel
The sun was gleaming in the midst of day.
Dead-still the air, and eke the welkin blue,
When from the sea arose in drear array
A heap of clouds of sable sullen hue,
The which full fast unto the woodland drew,
Hiding at once the sunnès festive face,
And the black tempest swelled, and gathered up apace.
Beneath a holm, fast by a pathway-side holm-oak