XX.

And oft he traced the uplands, to survey, When o'er the sky advanced the kindling dawn, The crimson cloud, blue main, and mountain grey, And lake, dim-gleaming on the smoky lawn; Far to the west the long, long vale withdrawn, Where twilight loves to linger for a while; And now he faintly kens the bounding fawn, And villager abroad at early toil. But, lo! the sun appears! and heaven, earth, ocean, smile.