Of evening tinct,
The purple-streaming Amethyst is thine.

Of evening tinct,
The purple-streaming Amethyst is thine.

I have of late--but wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth,
forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed, it read more

I have of late--but wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth,
forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed, it goes so heavily
with my disposition that this goodly frame the earth seems to me
a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look
you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof
fretted with golden fire--why, it appeareth nothing to me but a
foul and pestilent congregation of vapors.

The soft blue sky did never melt
Into his heart; he never felt
The witching of the read more

The soft blue sky did never melt
Into his heart; he never felt
The witching of the soft blue sky!

Sometimes gentle, sometimes capricious, sometimes awful, never
the same for two months together; almost human in its passions,
read more

Sometimes gentle, sometimes capricious, sometimes awful, never
the same for two months together; almost human in its passions,
almost spiritual in its tenderness, almost Divine in its
infinity.

He answered and said unto them, When it is evening, ye say, It
will be fair weather: for the read more

He answered and said unto them, When it is evening, ye say, It
will be fair weather: for the sky is red.
And in the morning, It will be foul weather to day: for the sky
is red and lowring. O ye hypocrites, ye can discern the face of
the sky; but can ye not discern the signs of the times?

I go back to those who say: what if the heavens fall?
[Lat., Redeo ad illes qui aiunt: quid read more

I go back to those who say: what if the heavens fall?
[Lat., Redeo ad illes qui aiunt: quid si coelum ruat?]

The sky
is that beautiful old parchment
in which the sun
and the moon
read more

The sky
is that beautiful old parchment
in which the sun
and the moon
keep their diary.

Bolt from the blue.

Bolt from the blue.

The moon has set
In a bank of jet
That fringes the Western sky,
read more

The moon has set
In a bank of jet
That fringes the Western sky,
The pleiads seven
Have sunk from heaven
And the midnight hurries by;
My hopes are flown
And, alas! alone
On my weary couch I lie.