Such harmonious madness
From my lips would flow,
The world should listen then, as I am listening now.
Percy Bysshe Shelley.
A LARK SINGING IN A RAINBOW.
Fraught with a transient, frozen shower
If a cloud should haply lower,
Sailing o’er the landscape dark,
Mute, on a sudden, is the lark;
But when gleams the sun again