cr own readers

62 THE CLOUD.
15. THE CLOUD.
1. I bring fresh showers for the thi rsti ng flowers,
From the sea and th e streams ;
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
In th eir noonday dreams.
From my wings ar e shaken th e dews that wake n
Th e sweet birds e"ery one,
When rocked to rest on th eir :1Lother's breast.
As she dances about th e un.
I wield th e flail of th e lashinc hail,
And whiten th e green plains under ;
And th en again I dissolv e it in rain,
And laugh as I pass in thunder.
2. I sift th e snow on the mountains l.elow,
And th eir great pines groan aghast;
And all the night 'tis my pillow white,
W hile I sleep in the arms of the blast.
Sublime on the towers of my skyey bowers,
Lightning, my pilot, sits;
In a cavern under is fettered the 'I'huuder-c­
It str uggles and howls at fits:
Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion,
This pilot is guiding me,
Lured by the love of th e Genii th at move
In th e depths of th e purple sea.
3. The sanguine Sunrise, with his meteor eyes,
And his burning plum es outs pread,
Leaps on th e back of my sailing rack,
When th e morning-star shines dead, ­
As on the jag of a mountain crag,
Which an earthquake rocks and swings,