Ethereal Waves



If aught of Oaten Stop, or Pastoral Song
May hope, chaste Eve, to soothe thy modest ear,
    Like thy own solemn springs,
    Thy springs and dying gales,
O nymph reserved, while now the bright-haired sun
Sits in yon western tent, whose cloudy skirts,
    With brede ethereal wove,
    O'erhand his wavy bed;

-William Collins (1721-1759),
Ode to Evening







images © 1999 by Randy Wang
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