17 Blaabhein In The Mists

Watch but a moment—all is changed! A moan
Breaketh the beauty of that noonday dream;
The hoary Titan darkens on his throne,
And with an indistinct and senile scream
Gazes at the wild Rains as past they stream,
Through vaporous air wild-blowing on his brow;
All black, from scalp to base there is no gleam,
Even his silent snows are faded now.
Watch yet!—and yet!—Behold, and all is done—
'Twas but the shallow shapes that come and go,
Troubling the mimic picture in the eye.
Still and untroubled sits the kingly one.
Yonder the Eagle float—there sleeps the Snow
Against the pale green of the cloudless sky.
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