With golden pinnacles and snowy mountains,
And billows purpler than the ocean's, making
In heaven a glorious mockery of the earth,
So like, we almost deem it permanent;
So fleeting, we can scarcely call it aught
Beyond a vision, 'tis so transiently
Scatter'd along the eternal vault; and yet
It dwells upon the soul, and sooths the soul,
And blends itself into the soul, until
Sunrise and sunset form the haunted epoch