Than the blue sapphire of the eastern sky
Above her head. To the prophetic eye
All the long future lay in folds of light.
Her noontide sun thick darkness veiled from sight,
Prelude of rushing storms that moan and sigh
Among the forest-leaves, then fiercely fly
In wrath and ruin, burying all in night—
To die in silence. See! the light returns,
A gathering splendor in its peaceful ray,
And all the western heaven at sunset burns