 | Sonnets at the English Lakes |  |
20
XX. WINTER SUNRISE ON THE FELLS.
I had not thought that in our English coldThe sun could rise upon a sight so fair:
Clear cut against far depths of rosy air
The mountains stood, white marble, washed with gold,
And veined with shadowy sapphire; fold on fold
Snow mantles fell, most royal and most rare,
Over their ample shoulders; milky hair
Streamed down from sunlit head and forehead old.
Such seeming fitness, such a proud estate,
Such mute magnificence, such powers of eld,
Assumed so swift, so suddenly beheld,
Would make a courtier's heart to hesitate;
And I, fresh come on Fancy's faltering wings,
Passed dumb before the Winter's mountain kings.
| Sonnets at the English Lakes | |