VI.
Men laugh at bards who live _in clouds_-- The clouds _beneath_ me gather now, Or gliding slow in solemn crowds, Or singly, touched with sunny glow, Like mystic shapes in snowy shrouds, Or lucid veils on Beauty's brow.
Men laugh at bards who live _in clouds_-- The clouds _beneath_ me gather now, Or gliding slow in solemn crowds, Or singly, touched with sunny glow, Like mystic shapes in snowy shrouds, Or lucid veils on Beauty's brow.