The frail dawn with phosphor blue
the threshold fraught of thalo hue,
the verdant lace of verging grey
that welcomes waxing warmth of day.
The secret cloaks of sable shade
are sunderred wide by searing maid.
The leaves awake in lucid green
with diamond drops of dew that gleen.
The steady sun on strand and sea,
the languid heat on height and lea.
The vague and restless vapours rise
to humid, hot, and hueless skies.
A worried wind, a witching gust,
the clouds are sheared by climbing thrust.
The welkin wails, weeps, and moans,
the thunders crash on craggy thrones.
Descending swift the sun has bled
in crimsom clouds with crests of red.
In yawning gaps of yellow umber
the kindler stills though storms encumber.
In waning eve the weather eases
to ragged wisps and restful breezes.
Through madrigals of mist in flight
the bitter stars abrade the night.