Then let your lines grow black with gath’ring rain;
Thro’ Jove’s ærial hall loud thunders sound,
And the big bolt rear thro’ the dark profound:
But shou’d the welkin brighten to the view,
The sun breaks out and gilds the style anew:
Colour your clouds with a vermillion dye,
And let warm blushes streak the western sky;
’Till evening struts in sober suited grey,
And draws her dappled curtains o’er the day.
Let Vesper then pursue the purple light,