Spirit that breathest through my lattice, thou
    That cool’st the twilight of the sultry day,
Gratefully flows thy freshness round my brow;
    Thou hast been out upon the deep at play,
Riding all day the wild blue waves till now,
    Roughening their...

  o thou great Movement of the Universe,
Or Change, or Flight of Time—for ye are one!
That bearest, silently, this visible scene
Into night’s shadow and the streaming rays
Of starlight, whither art thou bearing me?
I feel the mighty current sweep me on,...

From upland slopes I see the cows file by,
  Lowing, great-chested, down the homeward trail,
  By dusking fields and meadows shining pale
With moon-tipped dandelions; flickering high,
A peevish night-hawk in the western sky
  Beats up into the lucent...

Spirit that breathest through my lattice: thou
  That cool’st the twilight of the sultry day!
Gratefully flows thy freshness round my brow;
  Thou hast been out upon the deep at play,
Riding all day the wild blue waves till now,
  Roughening their crests,...

A Cloud lay cradled near the setting sun,
  A gleam of crimson tinged its braided snow;
Long had I watched the glory moving on
  O’er the still radiance of the lake below.
Tranquil its spirit seemed, and floated slow!
  Even in its very motion there was...

Poet: John Wilson