RHAPSODY
LO
!
here
a
cloud
comes
sailing
,
richly
clad
In
royal
purple
,
which
the
parting
beams
Of
bounteous
Phoebus
edge
with
tints
of
gold
And
lucid
crimson
.
One
might
fancy
it
A
noble
bird
,
that
laves
its
graceful
form
,
And
bathes
its
rosy
bosom
in
the
light
.
Look
!
how
it
swells
and
rears
its
snowy
crest
With
haughty
grandeur
;
while
the
blue
expanse
,
In
smiling
patience
lets
the
boaster
pass
,
And
swell
his
train
with
all
the
lazy
vapours
That
hover
in
the
air
:
an
easy
prey
To
the
gigantic
phantom
,
whose
curl'd
wing
,
Sweeps
in
these
worthless
triflers
of
the
sky
,
And
wraps
them
in
his
bosom
.
Go
,
vain
shadow
!
Sick
with
the
burthen
of
thy
fancied
greatness
,
A
breath
of
zephyr
wafts
thee
into
nothing
,
Scatters
thy
spreading
plumes
,
uncrowns
thy
front
,
And
drives
thee
downward
to
thy
mother
earth
,
To
mix
with
vapour
and
dissolve
in
dew
.
Such
are
the
dreams
of
hope
,
which
to
the
eye
Of
youthful
inexperience
,
seem
to
touch
The
pure
,
unclouded
sky
of
certainty
.
Buoy'd
up
by
the
fond
eloquence
of
thought
,
And
nurtur'd
by
the
smile
of
vanity
,
Each
hour
the
air-born
vision
gathers
bulk
,
And
Fancy
decks
it
with
a
thousand
hues
,
Varied
and
wild
,
till
it
abounds
in
charms
Which
sink
the
soul
to
sadness
,
when
the
breath
Of
gentle
Reason
breaks
the
beauteous
bubble
,
And
leaves
us
nought
but
vain
regret
behind
.
FEBRUARY
1
,
1797.