XXIX.

Filled with the face of heaven, which, from afar, Comes down upon the waters! all its hues, From the rich sunset to the rising star, Their magical variety diffuse: And now they change--a paler Shadow strews Its mantle o'er the mountains; parting Day Dies like the Dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new colour as it gasps away-- The last still loveliest, till--'tis gone--and all is gray.