Though outwardly a gloomy shroud,
The inner half of every cloud
Is bright and shining:
read more

Though outwardly a gloomy shroud,
The inner half of every cloud
Is bright and shining:
I therefore turn my clouds about
And always wear them inside out
To show the lining.

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.

By unseen hand uplifted in the light
Of sunset, yonder solitary cloud
Floats, with its white apparel read more

By unseen hand uplifted in the light
Of sunset, yonder solitary cloud
Floats, with its white apparel blown abroad,
And wafted up to heaven.

The clouds,--the only birds that never sleep.

The clouds,--the only birds that never sleep.

Far clouds of feathery gold,
Shaded with deepest purple, gleam
Like islands on a dark blue sea.

Far clouds of feathery gold,
Shaded with deepest purple, gleam
Like islands on a dark blue sea.

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.

Have you ever, looking up, seen a cloud like to a Centaur, a
Part, or a Wolf, or a read more

Have you ever, looking up, seen a cloud like to a Centaur, a
Part, or a Wolf, or a Bull?

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.