And in deep shade the landscape merge;—
Under the massive cloud’s low border,
Where hill-tops with the sky unite,
Like an old minster’s blazoned warder,
There scintillates an amber light.
Sometimes a humid fleece reposes
Midway upon the swelling ridge,
Like an aerial couch of roses,
Or Dairy’s amethystine bridge:
And pale green inlets lucid shimmer,