Hush

AND the first grey of morning fill'd the east, And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream. But all the Tartar camp along the stream Was hush'd, and still the men were plunged in sleep; Sohrab alone, he slept not; all night long He had lain wakeful, tossing on his bed; But when the grey dawn stole into his tent, He rose, and clad himself, and girt his sword, And took his horseman's cloak, and left his tent, And went abroad into the cold wet fog, Through the dim camp to Peran-Wisa's tent. -Matthew Arnold, Sohrab and Rustum,1853

White Sunrise

Soon will she lie like a white-frost sunrise.     Yellow oats and brown wheat, barley pale as rye, Long since your sheaves have yielded to the thresher,     Felt the girdle loosened, seen the tresses fly. -George Meredith, Love in the Valley, 1851

Prospice

Fear death?--to feel the fog in my throat,          The mist in my face, When the snows begin, and the blasts denote          I am nearing the place, The power of the night, the press of the storm,          The post of the foe; Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form,          Yet the strong man must go: For the journey is done and the summit attained,          And the barriers fall, Though a battle's to fight ere the guerdon be gained,          The reward of it all. -Robert Browning,Prospice,1864

Rays of Life

Like sunrise never wholly risen, nor yet Quenched; or like sunset never wholly set, A light to lighten as from living eyes The cold unlit close lids of one that lies Dead, or a ray returned from death's far skies To fire us living lest our lives forget. -In the Bay, 1878

Melancholy Grace

Smiles on past Misfortune's brow Soft Reflection's hand can trace; And o'er the cheek of Sorrow throw A melancholy grace; -Gray, Ode on the Pleasure Arising from Vicissitude, 1775

Music in the Air

Like a reflection in a glass; like shadows in the water; Like dreams of infants, like a smile upon an infant's face; Like the dove's voice; like transient day; like music in the air. -William Blake, The Book of Thel, 1789

Ice Tears

Her welked face with woeful tears besprent, Her colour pale, and, as it seem'd her best, In woe and plaint reposed was her rest;     And as the stone that drops of water wears,     So dented were her cheeks with fall of tears. -Baldwin,The Mirror for Magistrates: The Induction,1563

Cloud City

Now sunk the sun; the closing hour of day Came onward, mantled o'er with sober gray; Nature in silence bid the world repose; When near the road a stately palace rose: There by the moon through ranks of trees they pass, Whose verdure crown'd their sloping sides of grass. -Thomas Parnell, The Hermit, 1722 I sift the snow on the mountains below,         And their great pines groan aghast; And all the night 'tis my pillow white,         While I sleep in the arms of the blast. -Percy Bysshe Shelley, The Cloud, 1820

Tempest Dark

I see the light, and I hear the sound;    I'll sail on the flood of the tempest dark, With the calm within and the light around    Which makes night day: And thou, when the gloom is deep and stark,    Look from thy dull earth, slumber-bound, My moon-like flight thou then mayst mark    On high, far away. -Percy Bysshe Shelley, The Two Spirits: An Allegory, 1824