Who covereth thyself with light as a garment: who stretchest out
the heavens like a curtain:
Who layeth read more

Who covereth thyself with light as a garment: who stretchest out
the heavens like a curtain:
Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters: who maketh
the clouds his chariot: who walketh upon the wings of the wind:
Who maketh his angels spirits: his ministers a flaming fire:
Who laid the foundations of the earth, that it should not be
removed for ever.

Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel?
By th' mass and 'tis, like a read more

Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel?
By th' mass and 'tis, like a camel indeed.
Methinks it is like a weasel.
It is backed like a weasel.
Or like a whale.
Very like a whale.

When clouds appear like rocks and towers,
The earth's refreshed by frequent showers.

When clouds appear like rocks and towers,
The earth's refreshed by frequent showers.

Rocks, torrents, gulfs, and shapes of giant size
And glitt'ring cliff on cliffs, and fiery ramparts rise.

Rocks, torrents, gulfs, and shapes of giant size
And glitt'ring cliff on cliffs, and fiery ramparts rise.

But here by the mill the castled clouds
Mocked themselves in the dizzy water.

But here by the mill the castled clouds
Mocked themselves in the dizzy water.

I saw two clouds at morning
Tinged by the rising sun,
And in the dawn they floated read more

I saw two clouds at morning
Tinged by the rising sun,
And in the dawn they floated on
And mingled into one.

O, it is pleasant, with a heart at ease,
Just after sunset, or by moonlight skies,
To read more

O, it is pleasant, with a heart at ease,
Just after sunset, or by moonlight skies,
To make the shifting clouds be what you please,
Or let the easily persuaded eyes
Own each quaint likeness issuing from the mould
Of a friend's fancy.

My prophecy is but half his journey yet,
For yonder walls, that pertly front your town,
Yon read more

My prophecy is but half his journey yet,
For yonder walls, that pertly front your town,
Yon towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds,
Must kiss their own feet.

The cloud never comes from the quarter of the horizon from which we watch for it.

The cloud never comes from the quarter of the horizon from which we watch for it.