Beneath the concave of an April sky,
When all the fields with freshest green were dight,
Appeared, in presence of the[221] spiritual eye
That aids or supersedes our grosser sight,
The form and rich habiliments of One
Whose countenance bore resemblance to the sun,
When it reveals, in evening majesty,
Features half lost amid their own pure light.
Poised like a weary cloud, in middle air[222]
He hung,—then floated with angelic ease