Hunt and Lee, comps. The Book of the Sonnet. 1867.
VI. “O God! what glorious seasons bless thy world!”Paul Hamilton Hayne (1830–1886)
O G
See! the tranced Winds are nestling on the deep;
The guardian Heavens unclouded vigil keep
O’er the mute Earth; the beach-birds’ wings are furled
Ghost-like and gray, where the dim billows, curled
Lazily up the sea-strand, sink in sleep,
Save when the random fish with lightning-leap
Flashes above them; the far sky ’s impearled,
Inland, with lines of silvery smoke that gleam
Upward from quiet homesteads, thin, and slow:
The sunset girds me like a gorgeous dream,
Pregnant with splendors, by whose marvellous spell
Senses and soul are flushed to one deep glow;
A purple-vestured Mood more grand than words may tell.