"The Cloud May Sail There."
The cloud may sail there,
Day flow and fail there,
And the eagle fly,
Haze overshadow
A smooth snow meadow,
And gleams of silver
Fleeting fly
From yon cloud-delver
Of gleaming eye!
The moon may tarry with
Her pale bow,
And moonrise marry with
Virgin snow,
Blue heavens abide,
Or solemn-eyed
Stars by night, who gaze and go:
Ah! ne'er pollute
With a mortal foot
Yon realms of spirits aerial;
All but the lute
