I lift mine eyes, and lo! impetuous tears
Bedim them, as the tides of thought o'erflow
The soul's expansion. On thy peaks of snow,
Above the boreal revel, Nature hears
The chorus of the night-enkindled spheres
Roll westward, while their flickering torches grow
Like phantoms, in the orient's warmer glow,
Ere yet the Dawn's imperial crest appears.
But on thy deep foundations slumber Night
And everlasting Silence. 'Tis their dream
Alone that lingers when the darkness wanes;
Amid the ephemeral seasons' bloom and blight,
When earth and sky and ocean changeful seem,
That sovereign Calm inviolate remains.